


And They Were Rommates

by finnjonesbaratheon



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, F/M, M/M, there’s still strange things happening though
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-24
Updated: 2019-09-20
Packaged: 2019-11-04 19:54:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 23,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17904578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/finnjonesbaratheon/pseuds/finnjonesbaratheon
Summary: Billy comes across Steve Harrington’s ad for a new roommate like a sign from the heavens. But things aren’t all they appear to be.





	1. No tomorrow without a yesterday

**Author's Note:**

> I bet you’re all tired of me deleting and reuploading this story, but I really missed writing this. I’ve been filled with so much regret over deleting this story that I had to hunt down old files that I had, edit things, and now we’re here. I had so many plans for this story, and the fact that I couldn’t see them to fruition was making me sad so I wanted to finish it. If you’ve missed this story, this is for you. If you didn’t *shrug* that’s fine too. This is my baby and I WILL see it through. Insecurities over my writing be damned.

_Roommate wanted. Two bedroom apartment, one bath. Pets are welcome, but please limit it to small animals. For more details, contact Steve Harrington. Contact info below._

  
Billy’s eyes scanned the tacked on piece of paper on the bulletin board once again. His brain was trying to fully process if the universe was just fucking with him, or if he’d really finally found some good luck just when he needed it most. He was sick and fucking tired of living under Neil’s roof. When the man wasn’t busy bitching about all the things Billy was doing wrong in life—and that well never dried up, Billy could tell you that much—he was busy making Billy correct every mistake he thought his son was incapable of avoiding. After so many broken ribs, there were only so many excuses Billy could give his professors about why he kept showing up to his classes late.

  
_My car broke down and I ran all the way here. That's why it’s hard for me to breathe right now._

  
_I recently took up boxing._

  
_I fell down the stairs._

  
Excuse after excuse after excuse, he was sure that some of them were starting to catch on to his lies. But seeing as how they’d get paid whether or not he showed up, and he always did his work when he _did_ show up, Billy was sure they wouldn’t actually give enough of a shit to go poking and prodding any deeper.

  
But now, on the bulletin board in the Student Services Center of his university, he’d found his golden ticket. Quite literally, considering that the ad was printed on golden paper. And he’d been saving up, too. The money was actually supposed to go towards getting his car fixed up, but with how much he desperately needed his freedom, he knew that a deposit on an apartment of his own was a sacrifice he’d have to make. Sure, it wouldn’t be _all_ his, but still. There would be no Neil, and that was all he needed to hear.

  
Taking out his cellphone as quickly as humanly possible—the fear that this was all one huge cosmic joke, and if he wasted anymore time then his only chance at freedom would be ripped out of his hands before he even properly got to hold it, played heavily on his mind—Billy dialed the numbers on the paper in front of him. The phone rang once, twice. It’d only been about ten seconds before somebody picked up on the other end, but for Billy those ten seconds might as well have been an entire fucking eternity.

  
His heartbeat quickened as he tapped his fingers nervously on his jeans.

  
He couldn’t have this opportunity slip through his fingers so fucking quickly.

  
_“Hello?”_ The voice on the other end answered.

  
“Hi. Is this—“ Billy paused momentarily to quickly glance at the name on the golden paper. “—Steve Harrington?”

  
_“This is he,”_ the voice replied. _“Are you calling about the apartment?_ ” It asked.  
  
“Yeah, actually, I am. I hope it hasn’t been taken already.” Billy was sure he’d fucking kill himself if his ticket to freedom had been taken by someone else. Well, metaphorically speaking, anyway. Death was way too fucking messy.  
  
_“Nah, dude. You’re good. It’s still available. But listen, I’m about to head to class in, like, ten minutes. So call me again at 4:30 and I’ll give you the address and you can come check everything out. That sound okay?”_

  
“Are you kidding me? That sounds perfect!” _‘Reel back your excitement, Billy’_ He mentally told himself. _‘You don’t need him knowing just how desperate you are.’_ “I mean, yeah. That sounds great. I’ll see you at 4:30.”

  
_“Sweet, bro. See ya then.”_

  
Billy hung up the phone and only barely stopped himself from doing a dance in front of everyone in the room. He did have _some_ degree of self-respect. He checked the time and saw that it was almost 2:30. Two hours. He’d just have to keep himself occupied for the next two hours and he’d be free for the rest of his life.  
  
He couldn’t go home. The drive from campus to his house and back again was approximately an hour. Plus, he didn’t want to be anywhere near Neil right now. Not when he was so close to never seeing the bastard’s face ever again. He needed something to do for two hours, though. So he decided he’d bother Max. He knew she’d be getting out of school around this time and she’d most likely have something to bitch to him about.  
  
Max wasn’t one to gossip—she detested such things, in fact; thought it was stupid to spread other people’s business around when you knew damn well you wouldn’t want your own business being spread—but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t take pleasure in complaining about anything that pissed her off for hours on end.  
  
Billy clicked on her contact in his phone and let it ring. It didn’t take long before she answered with a bored _“Hello?”_

  
Sitting down in a nearby chair, Billy made himself comfortable as he said, “Max, tell me all about your undoubtedly shitty day. And say it slowly. This has to last me two hours.”


	2. It's a crooked old tradition

His conversation with Max didn’t last long. Not nearly as long as he’d hoped it would.

  
Billy was right to assume that his step-sister would have something to complain about, but her ranting and raving only managed to kill off about half an hour before it reached its inevitable conclusion. He had to admit, though, that the girl had a talent for stretching out a story and waiting to get to the point.   
  
Nonetheless, he was stuck with an hour and a half to kill, and he figured that now was as good a time as any to haul his ass to the library and get started on the project that his Anthropology professor gave the whole class a month to complete. At least, that had been his original plan. When he got to the library, he found himself clutching an _Indiana History_ book that he’d gotten off one of the shelves.

  
Billy and his family hadn’t been in Indiana for very long. In fact, they blew in when Billy was seventeen and Max thirteen, and every day since then had been an accumulation of the worst days of Billy’s life. Hawkins wasn’t a necessarily small town, for Billy had heard of towns smaller than the place he’d been calling home for the last three years. But it was no California, either. And for that fact alone, he hated it more than he’d ever hated anything or anyone.   
  
Well, almost anyone. Neil still held a special place in Billy’s heart for the _World’s Biggest Piece of Shit_ award, and that wasn’t scheduled to change any time soon.   
  
The only reason why Billy even stayed in this shitty hick state instead of hightailing it back to California like he’d been planning since the minute he’d stepped foot in Indiana was because Butler University offered him a scholarship he would’ve been stupid to refuse. Plus, with living at home and commuting to and from school everyday, he was saving himself money. Didn’t mean he liked it, though. And he made sure to complain about it every chance he got.   
  
But this apartment would offer him his first real chance at freedom since he’d moved to this shithole, and that was the only reason why he plopped down onto a seat in the library and flipped through the book that was trying way too damn hard to make Indiana sound like a much more exciting place than it really was.   
  
Absentmindedly, he allowed his eyes to briefly scan the words on each page before he flipped to the next page and did the same thing. Repeating this process a few dozen times, he _almost_ missed the fact that on one of the pages there was nothing listed for the _Hawkins, 1980s_ section. An odd thing indeed, considering that every decade prior—and every decade after—offered significant detail about every town’s important contribution to Indiana history.   
  
Billy went back to the previous pages to make sure that he was observing this right, then flipped back to the page that he’d been on. Sure enough, for _Hawkins, 1980s_ there was nothing listed. Zero. Zilch. Nada. It wasn’t like this was a particularly hard thing to miss, either, since all the towns were listed in alphabetical order.   
  
That was weird.   
  
But, with the fact that this was a book about Indiana of all places in mind, Billy didn’t put any more thought into it. He simply continued to flip through page after page, eventually reaching the end of the book altogether and getting himself a new one.   
  
His Anthropology project could wait another day or two.   
  
Before he knew it, it was 4:25 and he was three books deep. _“Shit,”_ he murmured to himself as he rushed to get all of the books back to their rightful spots. _“Shit, shit, shit, shit!”_

  
The librarian, and everyone nearby, shot him a glare, but Billy ignored them all and rushed out of the building.   
  
Was Steve out already? Did his class end exactly at 4:30 on the dot? Was Billy late?   
  
Pulling out his phone from his pocket, he went to his recent contacts screen and tapped on Steve’s phone number. Once again, the phone rang twice before Steve picked it up.   
  
_“Yes?”_ Steve answered, sounding like he already knew who was calling.   
  
“Are you available right now?” Billy managed to push out, trying to stop the panic from seeping into his voice. _Shit, shit, shit, shit._

  
_“Yeah, I’m on my way back home now. I’ll text you the address and I’ll meet you there. That sound cool?”_

  
“Yeah, that sounds fine. Absolutely.”

  
Steve hung up the phone, and about a minute later there was an address from Steve’s number texted to Billy. At that very moment, the possibility that this could all be a joke occurred to Billy; but he forced that thought out of his mind because he didn’t need any negative thoughts right now.   
  
Not when he was so close to salvation.


	3. Caught up in the middle of a headache and a heartbreak

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here’s the place i’m using as a reference for Steve’s and Billy’s apartment btw: https://www.apartments.com/cityview-on-meridian-indianapolis-in/svx9pp7/

Billy was sure his GPS was broken. Would’ve bet money on the thing being a broken piece of shit that was trying to get him lost. That was the only logical conclusion he could reach for why it was sending him to the rich part of town.   
  
The apartment complex wasn’t very far away from campus—it was within driving distance, in fact—but it definitely wasn’t the sort of place that Billy would spend his time at. He was sure that just standing anywhere near the building cost more than his entire college education. How the hell could a college student like Steve afford to live somewhere so top-notch?   
  
The blond haired boy parked his car in one of the guest parking spots, then got out and inspected the name of the building Steve had texted him from where he stood. He looked up at the apartment complex to make sure that it was the exact same name as what Steve sent him.   
  
Yup. It was the exact same one. It took everything in Billy not to give into his desire to let his mouth fall open in shock.   
  
As he stood, a black BMW drove toward him and Billy could see a face emerge when the passenger seat window started to roll down.   
  
“You the guy who called about the apartment?” The guy in the car asked. He was wearing ray bans—despite the fact that it was early October and it had already started to get gloomy and chilly—which he pushed up into his hair when his window rolled all the way down and he could see Billy better.   
  
Billy thought he looked like a fucking douchebag.   
  
He didn’t say it out loud, though. Not when the guy was offering to let him stay at his rich as fuck apartment. He wasn’t a fucking moron.

  
“Yeah, that’s me. Name’s Billy Hargrove. Nice to meet you, amigo.” Billy tried to extend a hand toward the guy—who he assumed was Steve Harrington; rich fuck even had a rich sounding name—for a handshake, but he quickly put his hand down when he realized that the positioning of Steve’s car made it difficult for Steve to extend his hand to Billy.   
  
Billy felt like a dumbass.   
  
“I’m Steve Harrington. Nice to meet you, too, amigo.” Then, Steve rolled his window back up and parked his car in the residents’ parking spot.   
  
When he came out of his car, it was like all the money that Billy would never make in his lifetime came trailing after him. Steve’s hair was done to perfection—Billy thought that he took good care of his own hair, but Steve put him to shame—and his clothes looked like they’d never seen a wrinkle a day in their life. He was wearing a crisp red sweatshirt under a leather bomber jacket with equally as crisp black pants. His sneakers were as white as freshly fallen snow—how he managed to keep them so white, Billy didn’t fucking know—and his ray bans were back over his eyes as he practically sashayed toward Billy with his keys tucked firmly in his hands. Hanging loosely off his right shoulder was his backpack.   
  
The guy looked like a million fucking bucks.   
  
And, if Billy was being honest with himself in that moment, like a fucking snack. Good enough to eat. Steve definitely looked like a fucking douchebag, but he made the douchebag look work for him. Billy needed to look away before he popped a boner right in the middle of the goddamn parking lot.   
  
Steve walked toward the building and Billy followed him, digging his hands in his pockets and willing himself to not get too overwhelmed by how much money was in the air.   
  
“I tend to forget that rich people exist, ya know? Because I don’t know any rich people,” he said, trying to break the ice.   
  
Steve turned around and gave Billy a small chuckle. When he turned back around, he just said, “I wouldn’t call myself rich, necessarily. But, yeah, my parents are pretty well-off.”

  
“That’s the kinda shit rich kids say,” Billy countered, but there was no bite to his words. Definitely a hint of jealousy, though. But could you blame him?   
  
Steve didn’t say anything this time—just shrugged his shoulders and held the door to the entrance of the apartment complex open for Billy. Once Billy was inside, Steve went to his mail slot and picked the mail key from his keychain. He inserted it into the lock and twisted, then took out his mail and locked it back up.   
  
“I’m on the third floor,” he informed Billy as he reached for the elevator ‘up’ button. “I fucking hate staying on the first floor, but I didn’t want to bring my stuff all the way up to the top floor.”

  
Billy only nodded at Steve’s explanation. He didn’t give a shit either way.   
  
They got in the elevator, and while the ride up to Steve’s apartment wasn’t long, being in such an enclosed space with Steve made Billy feel like time had slowed down. It also gave him the opportunity to notice Steve’s cologne.   
  
Seriously, what the hell was this? Did he die and go to heaven? Neil had always told him that God hates faggots like him, but surely the older man had to have been wrong. Unless this was the calm before the storm, and Billy really was doomed to an afterlife of pitchforks and hellfire.   
  
The elevator dinged, signifying that they’d reached their floor, and Steve took a house key from the keychain in his hand and opened the door to apartment number 302.   
  
“Welcome to mi casa,” he announced once he’d pushed the front door in to open it.   
  
This time, Billy didn’t bother to hide his shocked and amazed expression. His bottom jaw practically hit the floor when he saw how lavishly furnished and modern Steve’s place looked.   
  
To the right of the front door was the kitchen. From his spot by the door, Billy could see that the kitchen had granite countertops. On one side of the living room sat an extra long leather sofa, and on the other side sat a recliner. In the middle was a coffee table, and on the opposite side wall was a flat screen tv mounted to the wall. Next to the wall with the mounted tv was the door to the balcony. The whole living room was topped off by a nice rug.   
  
“Roommate moved out a couple weeks ago, which sucks ass because he was the one paying for groceries and shit. I can cover most of the rent, but I’d definitely need you to pitch in with the rest,” Steve told him as he threw his keys into a bowl on the kitchen counter and took his backpack and jacket off. “The other bedroom is right next to mine. Maintenance cleaned it out when my old roommate left so it shouldn’t be messy or anything. You can have a look.”

  
Billy wasted no time following Steve’s instructions, and he wasn’t disappointed in the least. There was a massive window opposite the door, and when Billy entered he could see a massive walk-in closet. Now, he was sure that he’d died and gone to heaven.   
  
But, with all his excitement, a nagging thought refused to leave him.   
  
Steve mentioned that his ex-roommate moved out weeks ago. But who in their right mind would simply pack up and leave all of this behind? Especially when Steve said he was willing to pay most of the rent?   
  
“Hey, if you don’t mind me asking: why did your last roommate move out?” He asked Steve when he met back up with him in the kitchen. He could see the hesitation written on Steve’s face. The other boy was clearly trying to pick his words carefully, as if he’d rehearsed this and was trying to summon them from memory.   
  
“He didn’t think that this place was a right fit for him anymore,” Steve responded carefully, then turned his attention to his fridge. Something was telling Billy that that wasn’t the whole story—or even the true story—but he was too excited at having a new place that was far away from Neil to really give a shit about Steve’s less-than-truthful answer.   
  
“If you want the room,” Steve announced, closing his fridge once he’d gotten his lunch out, “I can hold it for you for a little bit, but the landlord’s been riding my ass about not holding anything until the lease has been signed and she receives her security deposit.”

  
That was all Billy needed to hear. He had about a thousand bucks saved up that he could use to try to move in within the next week.   
  
“I’ll take it,” he said with no further prompting. Steve gave him a wide smile.

 

“Nice to finally have a new roomie.”


	4. I know I’ll see you tomorrow

He’d been able to move in within the week.   
  
It all took a lot of sweat, hard-work, and Steve convincing his friends to help out some random guy who they’d never met before, but Billy had managed to pull the whole thing off. Neil, true to his nature, lost his shit the whole time Billy was packing. Not because he would actually miss Billy or anything, oh no. Billy wasn’t stupid enough to believe that his father had any positive emotions towards him. Not anymore, anyway.   
  
There used to be a time when he believed the opposite to be true. A time when his father was his superhero and he firmly believed that the man could do no wrong or no evil. And then his mother died and Neil changed—turned into such an angry and bitter man who took every opportunity to kick Billy when he was down and remind him that he was a worthless waste of space.   
  
_ ‘It should’ve been you instead of her’ _ Billy recalled Neil spitting out at him one night during their customary fights. He’d then slapped Billy across the face and told him he was a disgrace. All of this was because Billy had come home ten minutes later than he said he would.   
  
Neil had lost his shit at the knowledge that his son was moving out—and actually seeing it happen with his own two eyes—because it meant that he was losing a punching bag to take his aggression out on. As much as Neil always threatened to kick Billy out on his ass if he didn’t start acting right (Billy never acted right enough for Neil), Billy knew that Neil was all talk. Full of shit, really. Because if he kicked Billy out, who else would he have to take his anger out on? If he even  _ thought _ about laying a finger on Max, Susan would pack up and leave him so fast his fucking head would spin.

 

And anyway, he’d never lay his hands on a woman. That was what he said. He had  _ principles _ or some shit.

 

Evidently, they weren’t strong enough to keep him from knocking his son around on the regular.   
  
A week after his first meeting with Steve, he was all packed up and moved into his new apartment. Some guy named Tommy had helped him load up the U-Haul truck and had even tried to hit on Susan, despite the fact that his girlfriend Carol was right fucking there. Neil gave him a glare that put the fear of God in him, and he didn’t even so much as look at Susan after. Another guy named Jonathan had sighed exasperatedly and told Tommy that he was always trying to stick his dick in something. Billy had snorted at that particular comment.

  
Steve had been pulling his weight, too. Helping take things out of Billy’s room and bringing them into the U-Haul truck, or into Billy’s car. Billy had told Max the weekend prior that he’d be moving while she was away at school, so he wouldn’t get to say goodbye to her; but she was welcome at his apartment any time she wanted, and that his move didn’t mean that they had to stop talking to each other.   
  
In the past year or so, he and Max had gotten closer with each other. Make no mistake, however: he still thought she was a massive pain in the ass—and he wouldn’t pick spending time with her as one of the things he’d willingly do in his spare time—but the animosity that had built up inside of him towards her had slowly disappeared, and he could recognize her as a decent step-sister who wasn’t deliberately trying to make his life a living hell.   
  
They were both just trying to deal with the changes in their lives the best way they knew how, and he ended up taking his anger out on Max even though he knew that she didn’t deserve it.

  
He was packed and moved, and now he, Steve, Tommy, Jonathan, and Tommy’s girlfriend Carol all sat in his and Steve’s living room drinking beers.

 

Tommy was the first one to speak.   
  


“We did real man’s work today, gentlemen,” he stated, laying back in Steve’s leather sofa and kicking Jonathan with his feet.   
  
“Get your damn feet off me, Tommy.” Jonathan pushed Tommy’s feet away from him and spread his legs out more.

  
“Hey, Byers. Don’t you have to go be creepy somewhere else?” Tommy bit back, not at all ok with having Jonathan try to sass him. “Or did Nancy finally dump you for being a fucking weirdo and you needed somewhere to lick your wounds?”

  
Jonathan kicked Tommy’s feet, almost spilling the other boy’s beer.

  
“Shut the fuck up,” was all Jonathan said in response, but it lacked any real anger.   
  
“If I wasn’t so tired from acting like a man today, I’d put this beer down and kick your ass,” Tommy informed him, which only made Jonathan snort.   
  
“Yeah, sure.  _ That’s _ why you can’t kick my ass.”

  
Billy stood near the kitchen and watched the exchange between both boys with mild amusement. He genuinely wasn’t sure if they were joking or if he was really gonna watch a fight break out.   
  
“Ignore them,” Steve, next to him, leaned over to him and whispered in his ear. It gave Billy goosebumps. “They do this shit every time we hang out together.”

  
Billy nodded, choosing to listen to Steve since he had known Tommy and Jonathan longer, and thus could truly gauge the situation.   
  
“You still haven’t properly introduced yourself to us yet,” the lone girl in the room, Carol, said from her spot in the recliner. She put her beer down on Steve’s coffee table and made her way over to Billy. “Hi, I’m Carol Mayweather. It’s nice to meet you.”

  
She said all this in an exaggerated sickly sweet way that Billy assumed wasn’t really her true personality. Her hair reminded him of Max.   
  
“I’m Billy Hargrove. It’s nice to meet you, too, Carol.” He said the introduction as more of a formality because this was his first day here and he didn’t want to go around making enemies with Steve’s friends. At least not yet.   
  
He felt her eyes trailing up and down his body, stopping at his crotch for a few seconds before moving to his biceps. If he was into girls, Billy was sure he’d find this shit flattering. A girl who was blatantly checking him out right in front of her boyfriend? He might as well have made Tommy his bitch.   
  
“So, Billy Hargrove,” Carol practically purred his name, “tell us what your major is. I’m a Psychology major, Tommy’s a Marketing major, Steve is a Finance major, and Jonathan is…” She trailed off and turned around to give Jonathan a confused look. “What  _ are _ you doing exactly, Jonathan?”

  
Jonathan twisted his neck towards her and said, “I’m a Photography major” then turned back around and resumed texting.   
  
“Oh yeah, he’s a Photography major.” Carol gave Billy a wide smile, clearly a signal for him to answer her question.   
  
“I’m a Political Science major,” Billy told her, wondering when the hell Tommy was actually gonna say something about the fact that his girlfriend was blatantly undressing another man with her eyes. But, then again, Tommy had hit on Susan right in front of Carol. So maybe this was just how their relationship worked.   
  
“Poli Sci!” Tommy whooped from his spot on the sofa. “You wanna be a lawyer or some shit?” He asked, but his attention was on Steve’s tv and not on Billy at all.   
  
“Or some shit,” Billy replied.   
  
Jonathan got up from the couch, and Tommy used that as an opportunity to finally give his feet the support they were previously denied.   
  
“Nancy wants to know what we’re doing for Halloween this year,” he told Steve. Nancy, as Billy’s deduction skills would tell him, was probably Jonathan’s girlfriend. “She said that Barb and Alison have been asking her since the first day of October if you’ve got any parties for them. Said that Barb told me to tell you that you better not make her drive down from Notre Dame for any lame ass parties, either.”

  
“We’ve still got, like, three weeks left until Halloween. How the fuck am I supposed to know what we’re doing yet?” Steve’s fingers ran through his hair. Jonathan’s fingers were fast at work typing on his phone. About two seconds later, he received a text.   
  
“Nancy said that Barb said that that was a dickwad answer, and you better get on it before we’re all hauling ass to find something to do on Halloween.”

  
Billy decided that this Barb person was fucking hilarious.   
  
“Well, tell Barb to calm her tits and give me a bit to think. I’ve got class assignments and shit I gotta wade through. But, uhh, I think Delta Tau Delta is having a party or some shit. If it sucks then we can just go somewhere else.”

  
Jonathan, once again, was typing Steve’s response into his phone. A responding text message came in about ten seconds later.   
  
“Nancy said that Barb said cool, but they better not have shit booze. Barb also said that she’s a one-woman party.”

  
“Why can’t Barb just go to parties at Notre Dame? It’s a big ass school.” Steve went to go get a bottle of water from his fridge. Jonathan’s fingers were back to work.   
  
“Nancy said that Barb said that being around all of us is what makes Halloween more fun,” he announced.   
  
“Awww, that’s so sweet,” Tommy said from his spot on the sofa. Billy didn’t even know that he’d been paying attention to the conversation.   
  
Another text dinged on Jonathan’s phone. “She said everyone except for you, Tommy. She thinks you’re an asshole.”

  
“Tell Barbara I love her too, Johnny-boy.”   
  
“Billy, do you wanna come with us?” Steve asked all of a sudden, feeling guilty that they’d been making Halloween plans right in front of Billy and none of them had invited him along. “We do this every Halloween as a way to see one another since we’re all usually so busy.”

  
It wasn’t like Billy could actually say no. Well, he could, but he’d look like a real sad fuck come Halloween when Steve was out with all his friends and he’d be stuck all alone in the apartment with no real plans. Plus, Steve was making an effort to invite him into his friend group. It wasn’t like Billy had very many friends in the first place to go around declining friendship offers. What did he have to lose, anyway?   
  
“Yeah, that sounds great.”

  
“Sweet, bro.” Steve’s smile could have blinded Billy. Perfectly white, straight teeth all on display.   
  
Something in Billy’s stomach flipped, like he’d swallowed a whole acrobatic team and they were practicing their routine behind the cages of his ribs. However, he beat the sensation down, severing its ties to the outside world and destroying any hope it had of blossoming into something more. Steve was his roommate and he couldn’t allow himself to do the clichéd thing and develop feelings for him. Not now, not ever.


	5. I get by and make no excuses waste of precious breath

Once Billy had moved in, things became a lot more routine for he and Steve. They had differing class schedules, so whenever one was waking up, the other was heading off to bed. And whenever one of them came back home after class, the other was on his way out the door. They fell into their routine quite easily, in fact. It was scary to Billy how quickly life with Steve felt normal—like he’d been with Steve both their entire lives and hadn’t fallen out of step once.

  
Almost daily, Steve’s friends would visit their apartment. Billy quickly came to the understanding that Steve’s place was the official hangout spot for all of them. It made sense: Steve’s place was unquestioningly bigger and fancier, it was always clean because Steve was a massive clean freak who lost his shit if anyone so much as put their glass down on a table without a coaster, and he also didn’t mind having them over.

  
No one had actually told Billy this, but the blond was observant enough to notice that Steve’s parents rarely ever called him just to talk. Any time his roommate was on the phone with his parents, it involved them asking him if he needed any money, him rejecting it because he didn’t want to look like he was relying on them for everything (even though he _was_ relying on them financially), them sending him money anyway because that was the only way they knew how to be semi-decent parents, and then hanging up with a quick goodbye.

  
There was a certain loneliness about Steve’s aura that Billy sensed got even worse any time he got off the phone with his parents. So, it wasn’t hard to understand why he never complained when Tommy came over about six times a week, or when Jonathan set up shop with his photography assignments over the weekends. His friends were the closest he got to human interaction and feeling like there were people who actually cared about his existence and wanted to be around him, and weren’t just doing it out of some sense of obligation.

  
Billy could relate to Steve on some level: he understood the loneliness that existed so deep within the human soul that it felt like no amount of social interaction would ever soothe it. He couldn’t relate to Steve on the whole _‘my parents throw money at me because that’s the only way they know how to be good parents’_ part, however.

  
The closest Neil had gotten to trying to be a good dad once Billy got older, and Neil stopped feeling bad about knocking him around, was not punching Billy in the face that one time when he was 17 after Billy had talked back to him. It was shortly before he’d uprooted Billy’s life and moved them all halfway across the country to the middle of Buttfuck Nowhere, Indiana. Billy could tell that he’d really wanted to, though. That was probably Neil’s idea of being merciful.

  
Assignment due dates loomed ever closer, and Billy was positive he was on the precipice of having some sort of panic attack because _holy shit_ how had so much work piled up so fast? He didn’t even notice how professors just kept piling the work on; he’d been so distracted by the happiness of his newfound freedom. For three weeks, he’d had his nose buried in books and notebooks either in the library or in his room with the door shut and music blasting. Steve couldn’t possibly understand how such an environment was conducive to his learning, but Billy reassured him that it was.

  
Losing his scholarship was the last thing Billy wanted. If he lost his scholarship, he’d, without a doubt, be forced to drop out of school because there was no way in the deepest pits of hell that he’d ever be able to afford to go to this school without hefty financial aid.  
  
There was a knock at his bedroom door. He quickly checked his phone and the time read close to nine o’clock. What the fuck?  
  
“What do you want, Harrington? I’m really busy,” He shouted above the music currently blasting through his speakers.  
  
Steve opened the door to Billy’s room and stuck his fingers in his ears, miming to Billy to turn the volume down. Billy turned the music off entirely and gave Steve an expectant look.  
  
“Thought you said you’d be down for coming out with us tonight. Barb and Nancy are on their way. Barb’s bringing her girlfriend Alison, too.” Steve looked at Billy like they’d discussed this every single day and he was simply giving Billy yet another reminder instead of reminding Billy of a conversation that was three weeks old.  
  
“ _Shit!_ It’s Halloween already?” He’d totally forgotten the day of the week, never mind the fact that it was Halloween. Steve just nodded in acknowledgement.  
  
“Yeah, dude. C’mon. You’ve been at this all day. One night isn’t going to kill you.”

  
“I have class tomorrow,” Billy reminded him.

  
“Yeah, in the _afternoon_ ,” Steve responded, surprising Billy because he hadn’t been aware that Steve had been paying attention to his class schedule. “ _C’mooooon._ Hang out with us.”

  
“Yeah, Hargrove! Get your ass ready so we can hang out tonight!” Tommy called from the living room. Billy was sure that Jonathan and Carol were right there with him even though he couldn’t see them. He didn’t even need to ask ‘when did he get here?’ because Tommy practically never fucking left. “We’re not taking no for an answer, either!”

  
Billy looked to Steve, who was now giving an exaggerated pout completed with puppy-dog eyes. And in that moment, Billy knew he was a goner.  
  
And that’s how all bad things start, isn’t it? With peer pressure and a cute boy?  
  
“Fuck it, why not.” And he pushed himself off his bed.


	6. But in the all this trouble I've met I haven't got one single regret

If Billy didn’t know any better, he’d have sworn that Steve was checking him out after he’d joined the rest of them in the living room. But he did know better, so he knew to squash that hope before it even built a foundation. He didn’t need a repeat of senior year, when crushing on a straight guy almost got him killed under Neil’s watch. Neil always threatened to kill Billy if he caught him doing any ‘faggot activities’ (as he liked to call it), but during his senior year of high school Billy actually believed that Neil would kill him when the (straight) guy Billy’d had feelings for decided that it would be oh-so-appropriate to go directly to Neil and tell him to tell Billy that he didn’t appreciate being the object of Billy’s affections.

  
It _grossed him out_. His exact words.

  
Neil, of course, had agreed with the little bastard and came so close to beating Billy’s skull in that the blond was seeing stars for weeks after the incident. He didn’t go to the hospital, even though he was sure he’d gotten a concussion. Going to the hospital would’ve only made things worse. And no matter how bad Billy believed things to be, Neil always guaranteed that he could make them a hell of a lot worse.   
  
That had taught him, once and for all, that straight boys were completely off limits and to never, _ever_ , no matter how much of a connection he thought he felt, act on his feelings for a straight guy. His sexuality wasn’t something that he was ashamed of, not anymore. But it still wasn’t something he felt comfortable announcing to others. He let people make whatever assumptions they wanted to about him. The only person he really talked to about being gay was Max, and it wasn’t like they talked about it all that often.

  
So, Billy knew better, and he pushed the thought of Steve checking him out right out of his mind as he sat among the usual gang waiting for a text from Nancy or Barbara signaling their arrival. Billy didn’t know jackshit about either of these girls—except that Barb was fucking hilarious—so he was anticipating what they were like. Did Steve really have shitty judgment when it came to friends, or was Tommy just a bad example?

  
“Nancy says they’re here, and they’ll be heading up once Barb finds a place to park,” Jonathan announced to the group. They’d all been sitting silently, save for the sound of Steve’s tv in the background. Steve nodded, then went to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water out of the fridge and his keys.   
  
“So, how are we all doing this?” Tommy asked, looking at them all. “Who’s going with who?”

  
“I’m driving with Nancy,” Jonathan said without even having to think about it. “Barb said Alison is gonna be in the car with her, and Barb refuses to be in any car that you’re in, Tommy, so I’m assuming she’s driving with Nancy, too. So, it’ll be me, Nancy, Barb, and Alison all in one car. Steve, Billy, Carol, and you can take another.”

  
Jonathan figured all of that out without breaking a sweat, as if the answer was so fucking obvious and Tommy was a dumbass for even asking in the first place. Both of those things were true.

  
“Sounds good to me,” Steve announced from the kitchen. “We gotta talk about who’s gonna be the designated driver for each car.”

  
“Not it!” Tommy called instantly, followed by Carol and Jonathan. Steve gave Jonathan a disappointed look, but Jonathan just shrugged his shoulders.   
  
“It’s fucking Halloween, dude. I’m _not_ being sober tonight. We can uber if we have to.”

  
“I don’t mind being the designated driver,” Billy spoke up. It was the smart decision to make. He had a class tomorrow afternoon and he needed a reason to not get drunk tonight and wake up with the worst hangover imaginable in the morning.   
  
“Billy, my man!” Tommy gave his approval.   
  
“Alright, so who’s gonna be the designated driver for the other car?” Steve asked.   
  
“Dunno. You can ask Nancy and Barb when they get here,” Jonathan told him. As if on cue, there was a soft knock at Steve’s front door, followed by muffled voices, and then a series of even louder knocks.   
  
Steve went to open the door, and across the threshold stood two girls with a third girl standing behind them, looking nervous.   
  
“We’re heeeeeeere!” Barb announced as she stepped into Steve’s apartment. “Let’s get ready to ruuuuuuuuumble!” Quickly noticing that there was an added member to their usual group, she pointed at Billy and said: “Who’s this?”

  
“He’s my new roommate, remember? I texted you about him.” Steve gave Barb a look that said ‘don’t be rude.’ Billy wasn’t even paying attention because he was trying to calm his nerves at the news that Steve was telling his friends about him.   
  
Obviously, it was because he was Steve’s new roommate and Steve was most likely only introducing him in that context. But still.   
  
“Ah, shit! Right. Sorry, dude. My head’s been all over the place lately.” Barb gave him a smile. “I’m Barbara Holland, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” She sounded all proper. Billy had known her for all of ten seconds and he could gauge she wasn’t actually that proper.   
  
“Billy Hargrove, pleasure to meet you, too, Barbara.”

  
“Oh, just call me Barb. Barbara sounds like an old woman’s name. I’m not in a nursing home yet!”

  
“Would they be able to keep up with you even if you were, Barb?” Steve joked with her. Barb snorted in response and gave him a _“fuck no!”_

  
“I’m Nancy Wheeler,” a short brunette girl with piercing blue eyes, whose fingers were interlocked with Jonathan’s, spoke up. “It’s nice to meet you, Billy.” Billy just gave her a nod of acknowledgement. Meeting new people was so fucking exhausting. But he noticed that the nervous looking girl still hadn’t said anything. Barb went over to her and gave her shoulder a firm, loving squeeze.

  
“This is Alison, by the way. My girlfriend.”

 

“Cos she’s a huge _LESBIAN!_ ” Tommy shouted from his spot on the sofa.

  
“ _Fuck yeah!_ ” Barb yelled back in agreement.

  
“By the way,” and as he said this, Tommy moved off the sofa, “who’s the designated driver for you all? We gotta know.”

  
Nancy’s hand went up—the one that wasn’t attached to Jonathan’s—and she waved the keys to Barbara’s car in the air. “I’d rather not be wasted out of my mind tonight. And somebody needs to make sure Barb doesn’t piss herself in bed.”

 

“That was _one time_ , Nancy. And it happened almost a year ago!”

  
“And I’m gonna keep reminding you of it so it doesn’t happen again!”

  
“OK, I’ll admit that drinking five Jägerbombs at that St. Patrick’s party wasn’t the smartest move on my part, but we’ve gotta get past this, Nance. I’m a grown woman now. My bladder is more mature.”

  
Nancy just rolled her eyes in mock-annoyance. “Sure, Barb.”

  
“Is everyone ready to leave?” Steve asked the group once Barb and Nancy’s back-and-forth was done. There was a collective “yes” from the group and then they were all heading out the door. Steve was the last one out so he could lock the door, then he handed his keys to Billy for the night.

  
There was a sliver of a moment, when Billy was reaching for the keys, where their fingers brushed. The only indication either boys gave of the interaction was a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it wide-eyed glance from Steve before he decided that his shoes were particularly interesting, and Billy shoving his hands in his pockets so quickly you’d have thought it was an Olympic sport.

  
The eight of them piled into the building’s elevator full of chatter. Well, not from Billy. He was trying his best not to stare at Steve, and Steve was deliberately trying to have a very animated conversation with Tommy.

  
They all got into their pre-agreed cars, with Billy in the driver’s seat of Steve’s car and Nancy in the driver’s seat of Barb’s, while Billy led the way with help from Steve’s GPS. Steve’s car was a shit ton fancier on the inside than it looked on the outside, and that was saying something because Steve’s car looked _fancy as shit_ on the outside. Tommy and Carol sat in the backseat making out, making Billy regret his decision to come out tonight.

  
“Is their relationship always so all over the place?” He asked Steve as he drove. His voice was quiet but he could’ve shouted it for all anyone cared, Tommy and Carol were too far gone to notice.

 

“Yes,” Steve answered, not even needing to ask Billy what he meant. Billy hadn’t been a part of their group for very long—he still wasn’t even sure if he was really a part of the group, or just a sad addition they added because they’d feel bad if they left him out—but he had picked up on the dynamics of their group pretty quickly.

  
“How long have they been together?” The GPS told him to turn right, so he took a slow right so that Nancy could still follow behind.

  
“Since high school,” and even Steve couldn’t believe it as the words came out of his mouth. Billy’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline and he momentarily took his eyes off the road to look at Steve.

 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” His volume rose a little bit, but Tommy and Carol didn’t budge.

  
“No, I’m being legit right now. Their relationship is very much a roller coaster. They’ve broken up and gotten back together more times than I can count.”

  
Billy didn’t even know how to respond to such a revelation. He decided it wasn’t his business to comment on, regardless, and just continued to drive.

  
He drove for a few more minutes in silence with the only sounds in the car being the voice of the GPS and the noises in the back seat coming from Tommy and Carol. Billy wanted to drive faster so they could get to the frat house a lot quicker and he’d be free of Tommy and Carol, but he remembered that Nancy was driving behind them.

  
Finally, after what felt like ages—and wasn’t a moment too soon, either, since Tommy and Carol were dangerously close to fucking in the backseat of Steve’s car—the GPS told them that they'd reached their destination.

  
There was a large frat house at the end of a driveway. Through Steve’s car windows Billy could see girls in scantily-clad Halloween outfits and their boyfriends getting out of their cars and walking up the driveway. There were a lot more people milling about on the lawn of the house. Billy checked his phone and saw that it was almost nine-thirty. College parties didn’t usually get crazy until about eleven, so they’d (sans him and Nancy) all be properly drunk by the time the party kicked up.

  
Car doors were slammed shut as they got out. Carol slipped off the sweater she’d been wearing in a sensual dramatic flare and showed off her costume—which couldn’t even really be called a costume, if you asked Billy. The girl was wearing a tight crop-top with booty shorts. She wasn’t wearing a bra, so her nipples were poking out of her top. She took out a devil’s horns headband and lazily placed it on her head so she could have some semblance of a costume.

  
“What the fuck are you supposed to be?” Steve asked, sounding just as confused as Billy felt.

  
Carol shook her ass a little and gave Steve a wink.

  
“I’m a succubus,” she answered.

  
Then, without saying anything else, she grabbed Tommy’s hand and walked off towards the house.

  
Barb trailed after them with Alison in tow, followed by Nancy and Jonathan. Steve followed suit behind them, dragging a clearly reluctant Billy.

  
“Come on. You’re already here, might as well try to enjoy the night.”

  
Billy wasn’t sure how much ‘enjoying the night’ he could do while completely sober, but he didn’t want to be the asshole who ruined everyone’s night.


	7. We are the youth

As they all reached closer to the house, they could hear the sound of music blasting. The playlist sounded all over the place, like a concoction of each of the frat guys’ music tastes because they couldn’t reach an agreement about what exact genre to play. Billy’d already decided that he was too damn sober to enjoy the musical fluctuation that would assuredly grate on his nerves. He’d lost sight of Tommy and Carol, and Barb and Alison, as soon as they’d entered the house. He could make an educated guess, however, that they were all wherever the alcohol was.

  
The house was as huge as one could expect from a bunch of private school rich kids. Billy was surprised by how many Halloween decorations had actually been put up on display—and quite neatly, too—considering that this was a house full of guys, and he didn’t think that guys would be all that into decorating.

  
Jonathan had let go of Nancy’s hand sometime after the whole group dispersed, Steve had fucked off to God-only-knows-where, so Nancy and Billy were the only ones left standing near each other. Nancy gave Billy a warm smile, which Billy returned with an awkward smile of his own while shoving his hands into his pockets. He really needed a smoke.

 

As he looked around the room—which was divided into the main living room, the kitchen far off in the back, and a flight of stairs leading upstairs—he was hit with the realization that he was actually out with friends. He’d never had a real group of friends in his life, even back when he lived in California. Just hanger-ons who thought that being around him would somehow convince him to fuck them, and guys who knew that being on Billy’s good side was better than being the dumbass who got their ass kicked for being on Billy’s bad side. Sometimes those two groups of people overlapped.

  
The music in the house got louder, and the song switched to play an annoying ass Chainsmokers song—the one about never getting older or some shit. It had that girl singing on the track. Billy made a face at the song choice, and wondered what the fuck a shitty Chainsmokers song was doing on a playlist for a bunch of frat dudes. That was a little bit _too_ gay, even for him. Barb emerged out from the kitchen, as though summoned by Billy simply thinking the word ‘gay’, and ran to the main living room shouting “I FUCKING LOVE THIS SONG!” She had a red solo cup in her hand, and it was obvious that she was already tipsy. Alison came following after her, giggling at her girlfriend’s antics, and grabbed onto Barb’s waist as they both sang-shouted “SO BABY PULL ME CLOSER IN THE BACKSEAT OF YOUR ROVER THAT I KNOW YOU CAN’T AFFORD BITE THAT TATTOO ON YOUR SHOULDER!”

  
It was terribly off key, but at least they were having fun.  
  
They were then joined by three other girls who also sang-shouted off key, and that was when Billy decided he was tired of being in that room. He left Nancy to listen to Barb and her screaming banshees of a vocal team and moved to the kitchen. Upon entering the kitchen, there were two things he noticed: 1. there was an open door leading to the basement, which, from what Billy could see, was lit up and filled with people and 2. most of the booze was located in the basement, because there were only a few cases of beer on the kitchen counter. The kitchen was full of packed bodies; and even though it was chilly outside in the late October air, Billy felt exceedingly warm. He was instantly reminded of why he hated being sober at parties: a room packed with sweaty people was only tolerable when you were so wasted out of your mind you couldn’t even remember your own name.

  
Jonathan emerged from the sea of people crowding the basement and got comically excited when his eyes landed on Billy. “Oh, shit! It’s you!” He shouted. He draped an arm around Billy’s neck while his other hand held a plastic cup. Its contents sloshed around as Jonathan started laughing, as though Billy had just told the funniest joke. Billy hadn’t said anything at all.

  
“How you doin’, buddy?” Jonathan’s voice was loud, both because he was right next to Billy’s ear and because he was shouting above a swell of other noise.

  
“I’m fine,” Billy told him, trying to put some distance between his ear and Jonathan’s mouth. He didn’t want to go deaf in his twenties.

  
“That’s good. We’re really glad you’re here, dude. You’re, like, _way_ cooler than Steve’s old roommate.” Jonathan gulped down a big chunk of the contents of his plastic cup, then continued. “The last guy was a real pain in the ass. Always complaining about me and Tommy being over, and being so loud any time he’d bring girls over to fuck.”

  
“Uh, thanks,” Billy replied, not knowing if that was a compliment or just a statement of observation. Jonathan finished the rest of his drink, then patted Billy on the head.

  
“You’re welcome, buddy. I hope that dickhead gets eaten by the demogorgon. He deserves it.”

  
The _what_?

  
Billy just nodded along to what Jonathan said, chalking it all up to him being drunk and saying typical dumbass drunk people shit.

  
“I’m gonna get more booze. I’m not drunk enough yet,” and then Jonathan went barreling back down to the basement, shouting in excitement.

  
Billy didn’t think anything more of the conversation, and after that he walked back to the living room, figuring that Barb and her new friends had to have been done screeching by now. The song had changed to some Migos song that Billy recognized and actually liked. More people were gathered in the living room now singing along, many of them with their phones out snapchatting and Instagram living it. Billy maneuvered around them to get back to where he and Nancy had been standing, and was happy to see that Nancy was still where he’d left her.

  
“Did you enjoy your trip to the kitchen?” She asked him, jokingly. She was yelling above the noise of the music and everyone singing along.

  
“Yeah, it was fun. I don’t know if you knew this, but they keep _food_ in there,” Billy joked back, which earned him a fake shocked gasp from Nancy.

  
“How scandalous. We should report them for that. What kind of animals keep food in their kitchen? Savages!” She joked again.

 

He couldn’t help the chuckle that left his body. Nancy laughed, too, and for the second time since he’d moved to the hellhole that was known as Indiana his life didn’t feel so terrible. (The first time was, obviously, when he’d moved out of Neil’s house.)

  
More time passed, more people arrived, and Nancy and Billy (against his better judgement) sang along to a few songs that they both knew and liked. Billy had never felt like he belonged in such a long time—if ever. He wasn’t drunk but he didn’t even need to be because he and Nancy were having a fun time being sober together and making fun of all the drunk idiots. If Barb was the funny one, then Nancy was the witty one. She had a quiet brilliance to her. Whereas Barb was fireworks, bright and loud, Nancy was a firecracker: not as loud or as bright (in terms of social presence), but still exciting nonetheless. He could easily understand what Jonathan saw in her.

  
They’d made their way outside to get away from the stuffiness of the room when Nancy saw Jonathan up on the roof, a beer in his hand, and a group of guys on the ground below all cheering and shouting _“Jump! Jump! Jump!”_ Billy looked from Jonathan to Nancy, whose eyes were wide with shock and mouth agape, while Jonathan hurriedly finished his beer and threw the empty can down to the ground. He looked like he was really about to jump and crack his fucking skull on the pavement.

  
“JONATHAN BYERS, GET YOUR DRUNK ASS DOWN OFF THAT ROOF RIGHT. THE HELL. _NOW._ ” Nancy’s voice was firm and stern, and there was a fire in her eyes. All the guys on the ground made an “oooo” sound, like they were all middle schoolers and their teacher had just chastised another student. Jonathan looked like he was about to open his mouth to protest, but he promptly closed it back up. Whether that was because he was too fucking drunk to form an actual sentence, or because Nancy had put the fear of God in him, Billy didn’t know. Regardless, he got his drunk ass down off the roof.

  
“Good thing we were out here when we were,” Billy told her, which earned him a nod in agreement.

  
“God, I can’t believe he was really about to do it. What a fucking _dumbass_ ,” Nancy said, more to herself than to Billy. Billy didn’t really know what to say to that, so he simply didn’t say anything.

  
He decided to go back inside the house, leaving Nancy to nurse a drunk Jonathan who looked dangerously close to throwing up. He made his way down to the basement to see what was really going on down there.

  
When he arrived, there were two sofas lining the walls. He found Steve sitting on one of them, a red solo cup in his hand, trying to chat up a blonde girl who looked like you couldn’t pay her to be interested in whatever Steve was saying. She was dressed as a slutty cop and her tits were practically falling out of her top. Billy came closer and the girl looked like her savior had arrived. She offered Billy her spot and quickly walked off before Steve could say anything else to her.

  
Steve frowned.

  
Truth be told, Billy couldn’t tell if he would start crying or throwing up. “Why don’t girls want to date me? Is it because I’m ugly?” Steve slurred. He was very drunk. Billy didn’t know how to answer that—or, rather, didn’t know how to answer it in a way that wouldn’t make it obvious that his dick had been hard for Steve literally since the day they’d met. Steve was too far gone to really understand the implications of whatever Billy would say, fortunately.

  
“Nah, that’s not it,” he treaded carefully. “I think you’re just talking to the wrong girls. Stop trying to get stuck-up sluts to like you.” _And focus on the desperate sluts who like you, like me._ That, clearly, went unsaid.

  
Steve shook his head. “No, that’s not it. It’s like I’m just shit at every relationship I try to have. I can get sex just fine, but when I try to have a real connection with a girl she just ignores me.” Two-thirds of Steve’s speech was slurred to the point where it was almost indecipherable. But Billy understood the word ‘sex’ just fine, and he had to quell the jealousy that was forming in the pit of his stomach. _Steve wasn’t his._ He had no right to be jealous about who Steve had sex with. And, yet, he was.

  
Billy just shrugged, then said, “I’m sorry, dude. That sucks.” He didn’t have any experience in the ‘trying to get girls to like you’ department. Not only because he was gay, but because he was so used to girls throwing themselves at him, both back in California and in Hawkins. He’d never really had to _try_ to get them interested. “Let’s get you some fresh air. It can’t be fun to be in a dank basement the whole night.”

  
Steve didn’t say anything, but he let himself be pulled up by Billy and led upstairs. On the way out, they passed Barb and Alison dancing together along to an Ariana Grande song. Seriously, _who the fuck_ put together this playlist?

  
When they got outside, Billy could see Nancy was trying to prevent a drunken brawl between Jonathan and one of the frat brothers. The frat dude was stepping up to Jonathan and Nancy was using all the strength in her petite body to pull Jonathan away so he wouldn’t punch the guy. Billy could hear her saying “Jonathan, please just apologize and leave it alone. You’re both acting like drunk idiots.”

  
He told Steve to sit on the ground while he went to help Nancy out. Steve gave him two thumbs up and plopped down ungracefully on the ground.

  
“What the fuck is going on here?” He demanded, stepping in between Jonathan and the frat dude. The dude had way too much forehead.

  
“Tell your friend to stop trying to start shit,” the frat guy spat out. Billy turned to Nancy, a look of “what the fuck is he talking about?” on his face. Nancy sighed, clearly exasperated with the whole thing.  
  
“After you left, Jonathan got down off the roof and ran around screaming. He knocked into Brett—” Billy could only assume that the frat douche with too much forehead’s name was Brett. “—and made Brett spill his drink all over himself. Brett told him to apologize, Jonathan said no and made a comment about Brett’s forehead, and now we’re here.”

  
The fact that Billy was able to keep a straight face when he heard _“Jonathan made a comment about Brett’s forehead”_ was a testament to his self-control.

  
“Fuck you, you do have a big ass forehead. What are you even doing with all that shit? Reading everybody’s thoughts?” Sober Jonathan was already plenty mouthy, but drunk Jonathan was an absolute menace.

  
Billy’s self-control wasn’t _that_ strong, and he let out the loudest fucking cackle. This didn’t sit well with Big Forehead Brett.

 

“Get the fuck out,” Brett demanded. “All of you need to get the fuck out right now.”

  
“We’re already outside, dumbass.” Jesus Christ, Jonathan truly had no filter when he was drunk off his ass. Nancy pulled him along, begging him to shut the fuck up.

  
“Get the fuck out of my party _now_!” Everyone’s attention was now on them.

  
OK, Billy didn’t need to be told again. It was getting late anyway and he needed to take his ass to bed.

  
Billy put his hands up in surrender and walked away. Nancy was trying to pull a drunk, giggling Jonathan away from the house. Billy extended a hand to help Steve up, then Steve ran over to the flowerbeds, doubled over, and vomited.

  
If they hadn’t been kicked out before, they definitely were now.

  
Billy led Steve over to Nancy and told her to take both Steve and Jonathan to the cars while he wrangled up Barb, Alison, Tommy, and Carol. Nancy nodded in agreement and pulled both boys along to the parking lot. Brett the Big Foreheaded Douchebag was staring at him expectantly. Billy flipped him off.

  
There were so many bodies congested in the house, Billy found himself squeezing between person after person in his attempt to locate Barb and Alison. The music was so loud he felt like his whole body was shaking and his center of gravity was being thrown off.

  
“Barb! Barb!” He shouted, trying to cut through the cacophony. He saw a head full of short red hair and forced his way past more people to reach it. “Barb!” He called when he was closer. Barb was clearly having the time of her life, so letting her know that they’d have to leave was going to be hard. “We gotta go. Shit went down and we’re being kicked out.”

  
“OK,” Barb agreed easily, grabbing Alison’s hand and heading toward the door.

  
OK, so maybe not _that_ hard.

  
Now all he needed to do was to find Tommy and Carol, who he hadn’t seen literally since they’d all arrived. Shit.  
  
It took about ten minutes of Billy running all around a frat house full of people before he finally found Tommy and Carol in one of the upstairs bedrooms. Thankfully, Billy walked in on them after they were finished with whatever it was they’d been doing. They were both drunk beyond belief and slurring every syllable. The upside to them both being drunk was Billy could get them to leave by promising to buy them food.

  
Once he and Nancy managed to get everyone in the parking lot, he did a headcount to make sure they hadn’t forgotten anyone. After he confirmed that they hadn’t left anyone behind, he and Nancy had to get a gaggle of drunk people all into the proper car. Steve was the easiest of all because he was already sick to his stomach and wanted to sit down. Jonathan, on the other hand, was the hardest. He ran in a circle and demanded that Nancy catch him.

  
At first, Nancy was preoccupied with getting Barb and Alison in the backseat, but once she’d finished she was able to grab ahold of Jonathan, after running after him, and steer him into the passenger seat. Tommy and Carol started making out again once they were in the backseat of Steve’s car. After all of their friends had been contained, Nancy and Billy gave each other a high five for a job well-done.

  
“By the way, we’ll be stopping at the McDonald’s drive-thru cos I promised Tommy and Carol food if they got in the car.”

  
“Yeah, I’m sure Jonathan’ll want something too, so that’s a good idea.”

  
Then, they got in their respective cars and Billy drove off with Nancy following behind.


	8. And let your colours bleed and blend with mine

Almost a week had passed since the Halloween party and things had returned to business as usual. The due date for Billy’s Anthropology project was steadily approaching, so he had thrown himself into his school work. For his project, he’d had to watch and take notes of his observations regarding different types of human interaction, then he was supposed to put it all in an essay and talk about how such interactions were shaped by the cultural expectations of the given society in which they were observed.

  
Basically: he’d had to write down what he saw people doing and then explain how their actions were the result of the culture/society that they grew up in. It was supposed to be a third-party observer type of thing. He was simply making notes and giving his opinion about why he thought people acted the way they did. He had no stake in the game, and he had to use a cultural relativist lens.

  
He fucking hated it.

  
He hated anything that forced him to pretend to give a shit about why people did the things they did. But, a social science class was important to his political science degree, even though he’d sooner have hung himself by a fucking shoelace than pretend to give a shit about why people behaved the way they did. People were assholes, plain and simple. Not everything they did was a deep philosophical question. Sometimes ( _most_ times, if you were to ask Billy) people just did whatever would fulfill their own self-interest with very little regard for others.

 

But he couldn’t very well write that in his essay. He was supposed to use his textbook and cultural relativism to frame his opinions. Plus, it had to be at least three pages. ‘People are assholes’, unfortunately, wouldn’t make the page limit.  
  
It’d been almost a month since he’d last seen Max. Despite what he’d said to her about her being free to visit him whenever she wanted, his step-sister didn’t seem to want to take him up on that offer. Granted, she was probably busy because she herself was in school and had her own responsibilities, but she was in high school—how much work could she possibly have that would keep her busy for a month? It wasn’t like she did extracurricular activities. Not to Billy’s knowledge, anyway. Max hated being one of those people who cared way too fucking much about leaving some sort of bullshit legacy behind in high school.  
  
He wouldn’t admit that he missed her. You’d have had to suspend him from the ceiling by his dick to get him to even consider saying such a thing, but he still called her that day nonetheless. It took a couple of seconds before he heard her familiar voice on the other end.

 

_“What do you want, Billy?”_ She asked, as if he were cutting into her busy fucking schedule. What the fuck?  
  
“What the fuck do you mean ‘what do I want’? I called to talk to you and that’s how you greet me?” He was indignant, and slightly heartbroken. “We haven’t talked in almost a month, Max.”

  
_“Yeah, and?”_

  
This fucking kid.  
  
“ _Yeah, and_ get your shit ready. I’m stopping by to take you grocery shopping.”

  
_“I don’t need anything, though,”_ her tone edged more towards bored now.

  
“This isn’t _for_ you, Maxine. I’m running out of stuff in my apartment. Get your shit ready, I’ll be over in fifteen minutes.”

  
And with that, he hung up, not even giving her a chance to try to back out. Then, he put his shoes and a jacket on, grabbed his car keys, and headed out to the parking lot. Despite the fact that it was now early November, Billy still refused to dress appropriately. He refused to accept that he couldn’t just walk around in jeans and a tank top anymore like he used to back in Cali.

  
The drive over to Neil’s ended up taking twenty minutes instead of fifteen, but it wasn’t like Max was going to kick his ass over those extra five minutes. When he pulled up to the house that he used to live in just a month ago—it had never really been a _home_ for him; just a temporary dwelling—Billy honked his horn loud as fuck to signal to Max that he had arrived. He pulled out a cigarette from his pack in the glove compartment and waited while his step-sister dragged her ass to get outside.

  
After what felt like eternity—Billy was almost halfway done with his cigarette by the time Max decided to bring her ass outside—Billy saw Max’s familiar head of long red hair pop out of the front door. The rest of her body followed soon after, and soon enough she was closing the front door and trekking her way to his car. She opened the door to the passenger seat and got in, slamming the door as soon as she sat down.

  
“Jesus fucking Christ, Billy. Roll down the fucking windows before you kill me.” Her finger pushed down on the button that controlled her side of the car windows and rolled it down all the way.

  
He blew smoke in her face just to piss her off.

  
“You’re late,” was all he said in response.

  
“Were you timing me or some shit? Because if it really bothers you, I can take my ass back inside and stay home.” Max was too much of a smartass for her own good.

  
“Don’t be a fucking smartass,” he told her, putting his car in drive and driving away. He rolled his windows down and flicked the cigarette ash out of it. “So, what’ve you been doing for the past month that’s so damn important that you couldn’t pick up a fucking phone to call me?”

  
“I made friends. I was hanging out with them,” Max replied honestly.

  
“ _Bullshit_ you made friends. Who the fuck did you meet that you’re able to tolerate for more than five minutes?”

  
“A group of boys and a girl named Jane,” Max responded softly, as though she were afraid that if she told Billy about her new friends he would somehow take them away from her. “I like them, they’re cool. Lucas is cool.”

  
The way she said the name _Lucas_ made Billy think that this boy was more than just ‘cool’ to her.

  
“He hasn’t deflowered you, has he?” Billy abruptly asked, glancing over at Max to see her face go bright red from embarrassment.

  
“ _No!_ He hasn’t!” She was sounding way more defensive than she needed to be, especially since they both knew that Billy was just fucking around with her.

  
“Just make sure you make him wrap it up cos if he gets you pregnant I’m sure Neil will beat him to a fucking pulp.”

  
“Neil… doesn’t like Lucas.” Max’s voice sounded disappointed. “He doesn’t think that I should be hanging out with ‘people like Lucas’—” She did the air quotes. “He has such backwards thinking.”

  
“Yeah, no shit. I coulda told you that.” How many times had Max seen Neil beat the shit out of Billy for ‘acting like a faggot’? This shouldn’t have been surprising information for her. “Has the kid been to jail or some shit? Why doesn’t he like him?” A dude with the name Lucas sounded like the most privileged, boring suburban fuck ever.

  
“Lucas is black,” Max said simply, shaking her head to herself. “Can you fucking believe it? It’s almost 2019 and he still has a ‘no blacks allowed’ mindset like we’re in the fucking 1950s?”

  
Billy wasn’t at all surprised to hear about this. On countless occasions, he’d heard Neil calling black people the n-word with the hard - _er_. At least the stupid bastard was consistent with his bigotry.

  
“That sucks, Max. But look at it this way: two more years and you’ll be able to get the fuck away from that piece of shit. And I promise you, the freedom is absolutely worth it. And like I said before, you’re free to visit me anytime you want. You’ve got a car of your own now, so you can just stop by when you need to get away from Neil’s shit.”

  
“Yeah, I know,” Max said. “Can I invite my friends to come along, too?”

  
“What the fuck do I look like? A fucking babysitter?” She was pushing his generosity.

  
“But I’m sure they'd like to see your place too, Billy. I mentioned you a couple times to them, so I’m sure they’d like to meet you.”

  
“Wait, you talk about me to your friends?” He asked. He tried to hide the happiness in his voice.

  
“Not constantly, so don’t get a big head or anything. But I told them that you’re my step-brother and you recently moved out and share a place with some other dude. They think anyone who doesn’t live with their parents anymore is cool.”

  
Billy sometimes forgot that Max wasn’t thirteen anymore. She was sixteen now and hanging out with kids her own age who were all going through their own version of teenage angst.

  
“Yeah, well. We’ll have to see about letting your whole posse in. I don’t think Steve would want a whole bunch of teenagers at his place,” Billy told her as he flicked his finished cigarette out the window. “We’re here. Get the fuck outta my car.”

  
Max rolled her eyes at him, but got out of the car nonetheless.


	9. But still I find you there next to me

Once in the grocery store, Billy grabbed a cart and pushed it toward Max for her to push it. Max gave him a look.

“Why should I push _your_ cart?” She asked, crossing her arms over her chest. She and Billy had a brief stare down, with them both looking at each other and the shopping cart, before Billy finally sighed and grabbed ahold of the thing.

“Just know that I’m not getting you jackshit for your birthday now,” he warned, but they both knew that he didn’t mean it.

He pushed the cart through the aisles, saying out loud everything his and Steve’s apartment needed, and getting on Max’s nerves in the process.

“You don’t need to announce everything you’re getting.”

“Don’t tell me what to do, _Maxine_ ,” he retorted without even looking at her.

“Fine, _William_.”

That caused him to pause his debate over whether he should get ground beef or chicken, and look over at her with his jaw set. “I’m gonna give you five seconds to take that back,” his voice was a low growl. He hadn’t used that tone with her in such a long time that its return immediately caught Max off guard.

He wasn’t joking, either. ‘William’ was the name Neil had given him, and ‘Billy’ was the nickname his mother had given him when he was young and cherubic and she decided that _William_ was much too serious of a name for an angelic looking young boy to have. Billy _hated_ William. Hated the fact that it was even on his birth certificate. ‘Billy’ was one of the last things he had of his mother. Max was aware of all of this.

She was aware of the hatred Billy held in his heart over the fact that the one parent who had actually treated him like a human being had died, and he was left with the parent who made him feel like a mistake everyday of his life. She was aware of how angry and lost Billy felt being so far away from California and the home he’d grown up in and the memories of his mother. She was aware of how much he _hated_ that name.

He was long past the days where he’d snatch her up by her wrists and force her to take it back, but Max still had residual fear any time he’d glare at her with his jaw set and his gaze fixed.

“S-sorry,” she stammered, and he instantly felt bad for making her feel so afraid. He wasn’t that person anymore. _He didn’t want to be that person anymore._

Billy sighed. _Shit._ Now _he_ felt like the asshole. “It’s fine, Max. Just… don’t say it again.” The unspoken _please_ hung in the air between them. “So, uh… tell me about these friends you made,” he tried to change the topic. The sensation of a heavy weight was settling in his gut and he wanted to get rid of it—wanted to get rid of the guilt he now felt when he made Max feel bad.

Max, to her credit, sensed that he wanted to move on and granted him that small mercy. “They’re really great.” She got the biggest, goofiest smile on her face when she said this. “Jane’s so badass. She kicks all our asses at video games. It’s scary how good she is. Will is her step-brother—Jane’s dad married Will’s mom—and he’s really quiet and reserved, but really nice.”

Max was speaking emphatically now, waving her hands around wildly as she spoke. Billy went back to his shopping while still listening. “There’s Lucas, like I mentioned in the car. He’s super witty and sarcastic, but in a good way!” Billy briefly looked over at her and saw that she was blushing. God, she really had it _bad_ for this Lucas kid. “And! There’s Dustin! He and Jane play video games together the most. He’s good too, but not as good as Jane, of course!”

“Girl power and all that,” Billy joked, but Max just agreed with him in earnest.

“Last but not least—there’s Mike! He’s very matter-of-fact—kind of like Lucas—but he’s very protective of everyone. He’s kind of like the older brother of the group. Plus, I think he and Will sort of have a thing going, but I’m not sure because he also seems to like Jane.” Max continued waving her hands all around.

Billy’s eyebrows shot up at that statement. Was that what high schoolers were doing now? Damn, that kid was much braver than Billy was at that age.

“It’s all a very confusing mess sometimes, but I try to stay out of it because I do _not_ want to get involved in that drama.”

“Yeah, we all know how complicated high school drama can be,” Billy joked again, only to be met with an “I know right!” from Max.

“What about you? Have you made friends with Steve?”

Billy didn’t quickly respond to her. He didn’t really know how to answer that. Technically speaking, _yes_ he had become friends with Steve. But he wasn’t even sure if friendship was all he wanted anymore. He knew that he’d have to keep their relationship strictly platonic, though, because he and Steve lived together and if shit hit the fan, he couldn’t afford to move somewhere else. Or worse—move back in with Neil.

“Uh… yeah. We’re cool. We went to a Halloween party on Halloween with a few of his friends. They were cool. They all got drunk, though. Well, all except me and Nancy,” Billy finally answered, throwing a box of the cereal he knew Steve liked into the shopping cart.

“Wow, you met a girl named Nancy? That’s funny because Mike’s sister has the same name.” In that moment, neither of them made the connection.

Max’s phone dinged in her pocket, and when she took it out she saw a text from Jane in their group chat. She snorted at the message, then quickly replied with a text of her own.

Billy saw her fingers clicking away at the letters on the keyboard on her screen and he got nosy. “Is that them? What’re you all talking about?”

“We’re trying to make plans for what we want to do on Saturday. Mike suggested we have a Dungeons and Dragons game over at his place, but Dustin wants us to play Mario Kart on four player mode. And Jane just sent a meme about how we can’t decide.”

This was the first time in a _very_ long time that Billy had seen Max so happy about something. She really seemed to be enjoying herself with these random people she had met in just a month. She and Billy were the same in that aspect because Billy also wanted to believe that he had managed to make friends with Steve’s friends and that they would all make more plans to hang out with each other soon. But, they didn’t have the carefreeness of being in high school anymore like Max and her friends did.

Against his better judgment, Billy found himself saying, “You guys can do your little Mario Kart game over at my place. Steve’s tv is big enough.” He didn’t know how Steve would react to him offering up his tv to a bunch of teenagers, but the apartment _was_ also Billy’s, so he was free to invite anyone he wanted over.

“Oh my god, _really_? Holy shit, thanks, Billy. I’m gonna text the group chat right now.”

Billy just gave a short hum in response and finished up the rest of his shopping. If he thought too much about what he’d just done he’d start smiling, and that was absolutely _not_ what he was going to do in Max’s presence.


	10. It's safe to say I couldn't know better love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m so sorry this took longer than usual. I meant to update this sooner, but then school got in the way, and then I got a social life, and then it was my birthday, and by the time I had free time I was too exhausted to write anything. But I’m back! And this story is back to its regular schedule. I already started the next chapter for my other Stranger Things fanfic, and it’ll be posted (HOPEFULLY) sometime this weekend.
> 
> Also, the season 3 trailer has me hyped as fuck.

Saturday arrived faster than Billy had been expecting.

Really, it felt like all he’d done was blink and already he was turning over in his bed that morning and seeing a string of texts from Max all in the theme of ‘can’t wait for today’, ‘me and the crew are coming over at noon’, ‘Jane says thanks for letting us use your place’. He still hadn’t actually told Steve about his plans to lend his tv to his step-sister and her friends, but Billy figured that Steve wouldn’t be home until later on in the day (he’d matched with a girl on Tinder that he was planning on spending the whole day with; Billy tried to convince himself that he wasn’t jealous) so he’d have no clue that his roommate was offering up his television to a group of teenagers.

No harm, no foul. What Steve didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

Usually, Billy found himself waking up close to 1 or 2 on the weekends, but that morning found him up at 11 and, after he’d brushed his teeth, he lied awake on his bed wondering just what the fuck was apparently so _wrong_ in his life that he was now waking up at such an ungodly hour.

After some time (which, really, wasn’t any longer than a few minutes), he pushed himself up and made his way to the living room. He checked his phone and saw it was only 11:25. For the first time since he’d moved into the apartment, he missed the chattering of Tommy’s and Jonathan’s voices. The silence that now engulfed him as the seconds ticked slowly by almost made him call up Tommy and tell him to rush his ass over to keep him company.

_Almost._

After more time had passed, Billy saw the metaphorical light at the end of the tunnel when his phone dinged, alerting him to Max’s text. She’d wanted to let him know that they were all there and they needed to know which apartment was his. He replied, his fingers tapping at the screen in rapid succession, then placed his phone on the kitchen counter before grabbing a bottle of alcohol from under a cabinet. Steve always had the fancy shit, and Billy would have to be dumb as fuck to not take advantage of that. If a bunch of rowdy teenagers were going to be in his apartment, touching his stuff— _Steve’s_ stuff, technically, but that was just semantics—and being fucking pains in the ass, Billy refused to be sober throughout the whole ordeal.

He hadn’t even gotten the glass to his lips—because Steve constantly threatened bodily harm if Billy ever drank any of their booze straight from the bottle, and Billy had more than enough self-preservation and common fucking sense to not test Steve’s patience when it came to cleanliness—when he heard loud knocks at his front door. Swallowing the alcohol quickly, he threw open the front door expectantly. As he eyed all of the teenagers currently standing across his threshold, he was struck with the thought that these kids all looked like the biggest fucking pack of nerds he’d ever seen.

His eyes scanned over them as they all looked at him. There was Max, who had her arms interlocked with a girl with brown curly hair and wide, friendly-looking eyes. Billy swore he was hallucinating because he’d _never_ seen his step-sister look so friendly with another person. There was a curly brown haired boy holding onto a gaming station while a bored looking black boy (who Billy instantly knew as Lucas) held a copy of a Mario Kart game in his hand. Two other brown haired boys—a curly haired one and one with the worst fucking bowl cut Billy had ever fucking seen (who even gave their kid bowl cuts anymore?)—stood near Lucas and the curly brown haired boy.

The first thing Billy said to the group was, “Why the hell do all of you have brown hair? Get a new hair color.” The second thing he said was, “Tv’s over there. Just don’t fucking break anything or I’m kicking all of your asses out.” Then, he slammed his front door shut and poured himself another glass. He heard the girl with Max say _‘I thought he’d be nicer’_ , to which Max replied with _‘Yeah, he can be an asshole sometimes’_ but chose not to say anything because it wasn’t like she was wrong.

They set up in the living room while Billy downed his glass and poured himself another one. He wasn’t a lightweight by a long shot, so it’d be quite a while before the liquor hit him. In no time at all, on the tv screen was a four player Mario Kart game. The brown curly haired girl (Jane), the two brown curly haired boys (Dustin and Mike, not that Billy knew their names), and Lucas were playing four player, and their respective Mario Kart characters were on full display on Steve’s flat screen tv. Billy watched, mildly fascinated, as Jane dominated all three boys effortlessly. One of the curly haired boys—he _really_ needed to learn their damn names—screamed when Jane’s Princess Peach clipped his Luigi on the course. Max was right next to Jane, egging her on and saying something about “chicks before dicks” when the boys complained about her favoritism.

Billy hovered between getting drunk on a Saturday afternoon and sparing a perfunctory glance at the teenagers in his living room being loud as all hell. The boys had all rallied together to try to beat Jane while Jane and Max both looked smug as shit as Jane’s Princess Peach kicked ass. When the first round was over (with Jane beating them at every lap), they both gave the boys a shit-eating grin and did a little dance while singing “We kicked your ass” over and over again.

“Excuse me, _you_ didn’t kick our anything,” one of the curly haired boys whose name Billy didn’t know (Dustin) pointed out to Max. “ _Jane_ kicked our ass.”

“Same difference,” Max told him. “Do you want me to kick your ass too, Dustin? Because I don’t mind.”

“Twenty bucks says you can’t!” There was a fierceness in Dustin’s eyes.

“Now why the hell would he say that? Now he’s gonna be embarrassed _and_ lose out on twenty bucks,” Lucas whispered to the other boys, though it wasn’t really a whisper at all considering that everyone in the room heard it.

“Oh, Lucas.” Dustin clapped a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Ye of little faith.”

“Dude, you’re gonna get your ass kicked,” Lucas told him in a no-nonsense tone.

“OK, we’ll see. Max, you’re on. Mike, put this on two player. Let’s do this shit.”

The tall and lanky curly haired boy went to put the game on two player mode, then went back to his previous spot and sat down. Billy had lost count of how many glasses of liquor he’d had since this whole interaction started, but he was beginning to feel tipsy. Still, his eyes lingered on the tall lanky boy and the boy with the bowl cut as they both sat close to each other. From his spot sitting at the kitchen counter, Billy could see the bowl cut boy running his fingers through the lanky boy’s ( _Mike_ , Billy forced himself to remember) hair. The rest of their group weren’t paying attention to them, having become too fixated on Max and Dustin’s game. Mike relaxed into the bowl cut boy’s touch, and Billy chose to look away because he felt like he was intruding on a private moment. He also didn’t want to witness a bunch of teenagers having a better love life than him.

All of a sudden, the front door of Billy and Steve’s apartment opened, and in walked Steve with Tommy in tow. At once, all of the kids in the living room shouted “STEVE!” and ran over to him. All except Max, of course, who just stood back awkwardly.

“Hey, what’s up, guys?” Steve greeted, hugging and high-fiving all of them. Billy stared in confusion, a look of pure ‘what the fuck?’ on his face. How the fuck did Steve know these kids? As if to make Billy’s confusion even worse, Steve started doing a handshake with Dustin. _What the fuck?_

Jane threw herself at Steve and he caught her, spinning her around like she was a little kid, before he dropped her back down to the floor.

“Steve, we’re playing Mario Kart. Wanna join?” Lucas offered, and Billy felt mildly offended. Why didn’t they ask _him_ if he wanted to join their Mario Kart game?

“Fuck yeah I wanna join. What’re we doing—two player or four player?” Steve asked.

“Well, we _were_ doing two player, but we all know that I can kick Dustin’s ass, so I think I can spare him the embarrassment,” Max spoke up.

“Lies and slander!” Dustin whipped around to tell her. She made a face at him, then walked back into the living room.

“Isn’t he supposed to be on a date with some Tinder slut?” Billy asked Tommy when he’d walked over to where Billy sat and poured himself a drink.

“He is, but she bailed on him at the last minute. We were hanging out together for half an hour before we decided to just be boring fucks at home.”

“And how the fuck does Steve know Max’s friends?”

“Who the fuck is Max?” Tommy asked with genuine confusion. His eyebrows furrowed together.

“She’s my step-sister.” Billy was sure that if he was less tipsy he would’ve been more annoyed with Tommy’s word choice.

“Oh, those are Jonathan’s and Nancy’s brothers. Well, Mike is Nancy’s brother and Will is Jonathan’s.” Tommy pointed to the lanky curly haired boy and the bowl cut boy. “Lucas and Dustin are their best friends, and Jane is Will’s step-sister slash party member.” At this part, he pointed to each teenager.

“Party member?” Billy asked.

“That’s what they call themselves: The Party. Yeah, Jane’s dad married Will’s mom awhile ago and she’s been a part of their lives ever since. Actually, for a little bit longer than that, I think. A lot of Upside Down shit happened,” Tommy kept talking, not even paying attention to the information he was letting out.

“Upside Down shit? You mean like there was some really bad drama involved?” Billy’s steadily inebriated brain couldn’t even begin to understand whatever the fuck Tommy was saying, and that was what saved Tommy and his big ass mouth.

“Uh, yeah. Sure,” he answered nervously. He resolved to drinking his alcohol and not answering anymore questions lest he say something that would land him in hot water with Steve and the gang.


	11. A little vision of the start and the end

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise this story had a point lmao. Finally, the spooky chapters are starting.

That morning at breakfast, Jim Hopper received a call he’d been hoping to never have to receive again.

He, Will, Jane, and Joyce were all sat around the breakfast table when an unexpected call came in on his cell phone. He paused, briefly recognizing the phone number as belonging to one of his colleagues at the station, and excused himself out of the room while Jane and Will argued over who should get the last strip of bacon. (They’d end up sharing it. They _always_ ended up sharing it.)

The news he received made his body freeze, mouth slightly agape, as he slowly shook his head. _‘Not again’_ he thought, because he’d truly believed this whole situation to be behind them. His colleague informed him that he’d been contacted because this latest case—multiple missing persons cases that seemingly led to dead ends—had _eerie_ written all over it, and almost everyone at the police department knew that Hopper was the man to go to for all things eerie and supernatural.

_“People are disappearing again, Jim,”_ said his colleague over the phone in a gruff tone. Hopper let a silent beat rest between them before he said:

“Does anybody have any leads?”

_“No,”_ replied his colleague. Jim couldn’t see the man, but he got the feeling that he was shaking his head on the other end.

_“And the weirdest thing is_ ,” his colleague continued, lowering his voice when he proceeded to the next part, _“the few people who have managed to be found have no memory of where they’ve been. The last thing they remember is whatever they were doing before they went missing. Some of them don’t even know they were missing.”_

Jim hummed. That wasn’t good news at all. From the sounds of things, they were dealing with a new Big Bad—or, rather, their previous Big Bad had upped the ante.

_“Only a few people at the station know the details. We’re keeping this on the down low because in case this is… ya know… something… we don’t want an inexperienced cop blabbing all over town. We’ve gotta keep this under lock and key.”_

Hopper nodded in agreement, but he didn’t know why seeing as how the man on the other end of the line couldn’t see him. By ‘something’ he knew his colleague meant ‘something otherworldly’.

“You’re absolutely right, and I’m glad you called me. I’ll see what I can figure out,” Hopper sighed before he thanked the man and hung up.

When he got back to the table, all three of the occupants sitting down looked at him expectantly. They all knew that he’d inevitably cave and tell them everything, so they had no need to pry. Sitting back on his chair, Hopper took a second to collect himself before he eventually said, “Weird things are happening again.”

Will, Jane, and Joyce didn’t need any further information. They were all acutely aware of what Jim was getting at.

“How bad is it?” Joyce asked finally, after a few minutes of silence. Jim sighed for the second time that morning and said to his wife, “Right now, they say it’s just missing people. No dead bodies yet.” Because they all knew there _would_ be dead bodies. “But O’Donnell also said that a few of the missing people who’ve managed to come back have no memory of ever going missing. So, we don’t really know what we’re dealing with here.”

“But the demogorgon never had the ability to wipe away people’s memory. Neither did the Mind Flayer,” Will leaned in, fully engrossed. “Is this something new?”

“From the sounds of it? Most likely,” Jim confirmed. “See, this is why the quacks in this town shouldn’t have run those damn experiments!” Jim slammed a hand down on the table. He was beyond sick of this shit. “Because when their shit gets out of hand, we’re the ones who have to clean it up. And Jane can’t—”

He stopped there. The unspoken _‘Jane can’t keep coming in to save everybody’_ died on his lips.

Jane looked at him, eyes unblinking. She knew what he would’ve said without him needing to say it. But this was her job, and she’d reconciled with it a long time ago. Being an experiment meant that it was her job to clean up when other experiments got out of hand. And even though the worst of Hawkins’ lab experiments had happened in the 80s, that didn’t mean they weren’t still churning out something new for her to defeat. It’d been awhile since the last one; she’d almost allowed herself to get too comfortable.

“Jane, you don’t need to do this,” Hopper told her as he gently took her hand in his. “It’s not your job to clean up people’s messes. You’re allowed to refuse. Nobody would fault you.”

“If I don’t, people will get hurt. People will die.” She shook her head slowly. “I can’t allow that to happen.”

Hopper looked at her with sadness in his eyes. She was so young, yet had already experienced so much that no person her age should’ve had to experience. He wished he could talk her out of this, but they all knew she had a point. This couldn’t be ignored.

“I’ll go to the station to get the files from O’Donnell and see what I can find,” he announced to everyone at the table. “But for right now: let’s finish our breakfast.”

If the demogorgon or the Mind Flayer or whatever the hell this thing was wouldn’t give them the peace of mind they all deserved, Hopper was determined to at least give them the peaceful breakfast they all deserved.


	12. I've been a saint, I've been the truth, I've been the lie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hoooooooooooly shit, I’m so sorry it took me so long to update this fic. I didn’t have any muse for it for a long time, plus I was finishing up the school year and didn’t have free time to spend on writing new chapters. but I’m back now with two new chapters to make up for the time I was gone.

Since Max’s friends had started coming over to Steve’s and Billy’s more often, Billy had begun to feel like the very thing he had sworn he’d never be: a babysitter. Granted, the “kids” in question weren’t _technically_ kids and could watch themselves, but Billy wasn’t about to trust a bunch of teenagers alone in his apartment to _not_ fuck shit up. He might’ve been an asshole, but he wasn’t a dumbass.

Things with Steve had also morphed into a closer friendship than Billy could’ve hoped for. He no longer felt like an outside spectator in Steve’s life. They had their own inside jokes, they visited places together when they both had freetime, and Billy even had managed to become closer with Jonathan, Tommy, Carol, Barb, and Nancy. It went far beyond simply being invited to places with all of them.

There was one thing, though, that, no matter how close Billy got to Steve and his friends, Billy could never figure out: the whispers between Steve and his friends about a place called The Upside Down. At first, Billy had thought that it was all a massive inside joke between all of them that they still didn’t think they could include him in. But he saw the way their faces got serious whenever they thought he hadn’t overheard them, and how quickly they changed the topic whenever he was nearby.

It made him both curious and frustrated. Curious because he wanted to know what the fuck they were actually talking about, and frustrated because he was annoyed that they still didn’t think they could include him in whatever the fuck they were talking about.

But even through all that, he never pressed any of them for information. (The restraint he showed was _massive_ because literally all he ever wanted to do was hound Steve for information.) He figured that when they were ready to tell him, they would. His friendship with them was so new that he feared that any aggressive prompting would cause it to fracture.

Still—Billy was Billy, and he could only practice self-control for so long before he started eavesdropping. _“Accidentally”_ , if you asked him.

_“Jane and Will said that Hopper received a phone call a few days ago on the 6th. Sounds like people are going missing again,” Steve’s voice was a lowered whisper._

_“_ Shit _,” replied Jonathan. He sounded like he was pacing around in Steve’s room. “Isn’t this around the same time they started going missing a few years ago? I seriously thought we were over this shit.”_

_“Well, if what Dustin and Will are saying is true, then the gate’s been reopened. I guess Jane didn’t really close it for good last time,” Steve explained._

_“So what if this time she doesn’t close it for good, too? We’re just gonna keep fighting this thing?” Tommy interjected. “I gotta tell ya, Steve, I don’t think I can keep doing this. When I found out about this I swore that the last time was the last time.”_  

_“Then don’t get involved, Tommy!” Jonathan snapped, stopping his pacing. “Nobody’s fucking dragging you into this. It’s not your siblings who suffer the most when this shit resurfaces!”_

_Jonathan’s anger wasn’t unwarranted. Each time the gate opened, Will and Jane suffered the brunt of the effects. Joyce and Jim ran themselves ragged worrying about if their kids would make it out alive any time the demogorgon reared its ugly. Every time it went away (however temporary it was) they all breathed a collective sigh of relief._

_“Chill the fuck out, Jonathan. Damn. You know I’m in this for real,” Tommy snapped back._

_Jonathan shot Tommy a glare, but didn’t say anything else. Now was not the time to get into an argument. Not when so much was now at stake._

_“We gotta figure out how to shut this shit down for real this time. No repeats. Jane and Will can’t deal with this shit coming back.” Jonathan was resolute._  

_Steve nodded in agreement._

_“Yeah, we gotta get this piece of shit back to the place it came from for good. I’m not gonna be in graduate school fighting demogorgons from The Upside Down. I refuse to do this shit for the rest of my life.”_  

_“Agreed,” Jonathan and Tommy said in unison._

Billy stood outside the door, confusion written all over his face. What the hell?


	13. So, don't fear, don't fear their warnings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoy this chapter (if you don’t I’ll unironically cry).

The weekend before Thanksgiving break, Tommy showed up to the apartment waving a flyer around with a shit-eating grin on his face. He slammed the flyer down on the kitchen counter and gave Steve and Billy a look. Steve perused the flyer, then pushed it toward Billy to read.

“Another frat party?” Billy asked, sounding surprised. “You really think that’s a good idea? Remember how the Halloween frat party ended?”

Then, Billy remembered that Tommy had been too drunk out of his mind, and too busy fucking Carol, to worry about anything else going on, so he couldn’t have possibly remembered what had happened at the Halloween frat party.

“Jonathan almost got into a fight with a frat bro,” he answered his own question.

Tommy snorted, obviously proud of Jonathan’s drunken antics.

“Yeah, well, just make sure he’s not the one drinking this time. He can be the designated driver and you can get drunk instead.” Tommy looked like he had just suggested a genius idea.

“What makes you so sure that _I_ won’t start a fight with a frat douche when I get drunk?” Billy asked Tommy.

Tommy shrugged, clearly not bothered with the possible outcome either way. As long as he was getting drunk at a party, he didn’t give a shit who got in a drunken fight.

“I’ll call up Jonathan and the girls and tell ‘em. I’m sure you just made Barb’s weekend,” Steve announced while pulling out his phone. Not that Barb would ever actually thank Tommy.

“And I’ll call Carol and let her know,” announced Tommy.

\- - -

This time around, the gang decided to stay in pairs in order to prevent any bullshit from transpiring. Barb and Alison stuck close together, same as Carol and Tommy, Jonathan and Nancy, and Billy and Steve. If any of them tried to pick a fight with anyone else, their buddy was responsible for getting them away.

Sticking close to Steve’s side throughout the night gave Billy the opportunity to see the process of Steve going from a somewhat confident sober young man, to a drunken mess of a man who was, surprisingly, more touchy than Billy had come to expect. This Steve was a stark contrast from the drunken Steve Billy had witnessed at the Halloween party. Billy couldn’t pinpoint the reason behind the change, but he absolutely preferred Steve when he wasn’t busy crying about girls rejecting him.

In his current state, Steve was liable to say just about anything. Billy toyed with the idea of finally getting information about The Upside Down, but he quickly pushed that idea out of his mind because even _he_ had to admit that manipulating Steve’s drunken state was a dick move.

About three beers in, Billy finally started to feel a buzz. Not being a lightweight was both a blessing and a curse—he could hold his alcohol, but he needed even more of it before he could even feel anything. He wasn’t drunk yet, but with a few more drinks he knew he could easily get there.

Billy wasn’t sure how many drinks Steve had had—he knew that as Steve’s buddy, he was probably supposed to be keeping track of shit like that, but he really didn’t want to; as long as Steve wasn’t stepping up to a dude who could kick his ass, Billy wasn’t too worried—but apparently it was enough to make Steve want to dance with everybody nearby.

He’d grabbed ahold of Nancy and twirled her around, then made a show of dramatically dipping her backwards. Jonathan found it all to be great fun because he, too, had his turn getting twirled around. The song playing was a shitty EDM mix that, had he been sober enough to give a shit about, Billy would’ve made fun of. Instead, with a drink much stronger than a beer in his red solo cup, Billy just watched on as Steve made an ass of himself.

Steve’s attention fell on Billy, finally seeming to remember, in his drunken haze, that he’d been there the whole time. A large grin spread across his face as he did an awkward half-jog, half-prowl over to where Billy stood. Billy let out a laugh so deep it turned into a pig-like snort.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Asked Billy as Steve got closer. “You look like a white dad.”

“Maybe I _am_ a white dad,” Steve slurred. “I’m a white dad who wants to dance with you.”

“Oh, really?” Billy’s eyebrows shot up, but he forced himself to play coy. “You gonna show me your white dad dance moves? You gonna raise the roof?”

“I’m gonna dance like it’s my birthday,” Steve slurred again, moving his long limbs very fast all over the place.

“Jesus Christ, Steve. Shut the fuck up. We’re listening to fuckin’ EDM and somehow you’re still the whitest guy at this party,” Billy joked. There was no bite behind his words, and he hoped that Steve would be able to pick up on that.

Thankfully, Steve picked up on the humor and let it roll off him. He grabbed onto Billy’s free hand—the one not holding onto his cup—and pulled him closer. After what felt like the longest time of listening to the worst song Billy had ever heard, the song changed to something more mainstream. It still wasn’t the kind of shit that Billy would willingly listen to, but it was better than fucking EDM.

Steve’s hand intertwined with Billy’s as he did an awkward little side-step, forward shuffle movement. By this point, Billy was drunk enough to not give a shit about being embarrassing, so he followed Steve’s movements with a forward step of his own. He finished up his drink to prevent it from spilling everywhere, then threw the empty plastic cup down onto a random table and used his newly freed hand to grab onto Steve’s other hand.

Laughing his ass off, Billy’s hands snaked up Steve’s arm and settled there.

“I’m shocked we haven’t fallen on our asses,” Steve’s lips were pressed close to Billy’s ear. His words continued to slur together. “Yay for us.” He giggled and gripped tightly onto Billy to steady his balance.

“Yeah, your feet are clumsy as shit,” retorted Billy.

“No they’re not,” Steve tried to say, but only ended up sounding like a petulant child. It was adorable, in a way. “Take that back.”

He stepped closer into Billy’s space. His fingers, which had settled themselves onto Billy’s waist, curled as he began to tickle Billy. An ear-splitting laugh erupted from Billy’s throat as he fought to get away. Steve had him stuck between his body and a wall, however.

“Fucking _stop it_ , Steve!” He tried batting Steve’s hands away, but it was all in vain.

“Take back what you said about my feet and I’ll stop tickling you.”

“I’ll take it back when your feet stop being clumsy as shit!”

Steve’s tickle attack worsened. Billy thought he would actually die of laughter. His hands moved from Steve’s arms, finding it useless to try and push Steve away, and moved up Steve’s face. He held Steve’s head between his hands, then announced, in a tone that was supposed to be threatening, “Stop it now, or I’m going to kiss you.”

Billy thought that that threat would’ve been enough to get Steve—Hetero Steve, Girl Crazy Steve, Couldn’t Stop Talking About Girls Steve—to stop tickling him and at least give him some space. Instead, Steve’s expression shifted as his eyes drunkenly moved from Billy’s own eyes and down to Billy’s lips.

“So why don’t you?” Steve countered.


	14. I fell victim to the sound of your love

Billy stilled as the weight of Steve’s words hit him like a sack full of bricks. He blinked once, twice, while he struggled to come up with a response. “Wha—?” He asked pathetically. This was definitely not one of his more witty moments.

“Why don’t you kiss me?” Steve’s words continued to slur, but he remained resolute. His encroachment on Billy’s space had yet to let up, and though Billy knew that he could easily push Steve away—(Steve might’ve been slightly taller, but Billy had more muscle)—if he wanted to, he was too caught off guard by Steve’s sudden forwardness and the randomness of the entire situation to think about putting a stop to it.

His limbs locked and his body froze. He continued to sputter out absolute nonsense as the cloudy haze of beer, rum, vodka, and whatever the fuck else was in that jungle juice fogged up his common sense and lowered his defenses. If he hadn’t been so drunk, he would’ve been embarrassed of himself for how much of an ass he was making of himself.

Still, he was Billy Hargrove, and there was _no_ way on earth that he was gonna let some rich kid pretty boy have him look stupid. He’d take back the reins of this situation even if he had to force himself to sober up.

“You sure you can handle that, Harrington?” His tone was arrogant in a way he reserved for guys he didn’t give a shit about who he knew he could make cum just by standing too close to them. He let his hands move slowly down Steve’s face, back down to his arms, until he was softly gripping Steve’s biceps. “I don’t think you really want that.”

It was supposed to be tongue-in-cheek, but Steve didn’t take it that way. He pushed Billy against the nearest wall, totally forgetting that they were in the middle of a room full of people, and let his eyes linger on Billy’s lips.

“Don’t tell me what I want,” Steve breathed against Billy’s lips. He gave Billy no time to react because his lips were on Billy’s right after that. His fingers dug into Billy’s waist to keep him in place. Billy’s fingers softly raked through Steve’s hair, then gently pulled on the lucious brown locks. Steve’s hair was a hell of a lot softer than Billy had been expecting.

Steve’s lips captured Billy’s top lip while Billy’s tongue made a swipe across Steve’s bottom lip. The kiss deepened, both boys getting lost in the sensation of it all. Steve’s lips kisses a path down to Billy’s neck, which elicited a laugh from Billy.

“Alright, Steve. How about we slow down a bit, yeah?”

“You smell so fucking good,” Steve mumbled, not giving any indication that he’d heard what Billy had said.

“What the fuck?” Tommy’s familiar voice interrupted.

Steve immediately pulled away like he’d just been burned with scalding hot water. His eyes were wide with equal parts shock, fear, and confusion. Tommy’s presence made him aware of just where he and Billy actually were.

“Wha—what do you want?” Steve asked, still drunk but trying his hardest to seem more in control.

Tommy looked between Steve and Billy with confusion, but luckily for both boys Tommy was too drunk to come to any logical conclusion.

“We’re, uh, leaving now. Uber.” Tommy pointed to where Billy and Steve could see the rest of their friends leaving through the backdoor. _When the fuck did Jonathan and Nancy leave?_

Tommy walked away and went to get ahold of Carol. His arms were around Carol’s shoulders and her head was tucked in the crook of his neck. They both walked to the backdoor as Steve and Billy trailed not far behind them.

Steve said nothing the whole walk. Billy said nothing because Steve said nothing. They were both still out of it, but Billy couldn’t help but wonder what this meant for them. Steve had been the one to initiate their kiss—he had been the one to initiate their whole exchange throughout the whole night, and he’d told Billy not to tell him what he wanted.

So, did that mean that he wanted more?

But, Steve had been drunk when he did all of those things. Did it even count when he was drunk? Did he even realize what he’d done? On some level, he had to have. The way he’d pulled away when Tommy interrupted them proved that he’d had some inkling of what they were doing. But that also could’ve meant that he realized what he’d been doing and regretted it. Billy didn’t want to think about that as a possibility. He didn’t want to think about Steve regretting their kiss, or chalking it up to a drunken mistake. He’d rather Steve pretended the whole thing didn’t even happen than for Steve to say that it had been a mistake.

He was way too in his own head, but he couldn’t stop himself. The one thing he’d been hoping for since he’d moved in with Steve had finally happened, but now everything between he and Steve hung in a precarious balance. If he made one wrong move, he could ruin all of the progress he and Steve had made in regards to their friendship, and possibly even ruin his one good living arrangement.

\- - -

The gang all arrived back at Steve and Billy’s apartment after their respective ubers dropped them off. It was already two in the morning by the time they’d gotten back home and they were all ready to go to bed. Nancy pushed Barb in the direction of the bathroom so she wouldn’t piss herself in her sleep—“That was _one time_ , Nancy!” Barb’s indignant huff could be heard saying—and Tommy got out Steve’s queen sized air mattress for he and Carol. Jonathan and Nancy took Steve’s bed to sleep in for the night while Barb and Alison took Billy’s.

When everything had quieted down in the apartment and everyone was asleep in their proper spaces, Steve grabbed himself a bottle of water from the fridge and made his way to the balcony. He sat, legs crossed, and looked out at the city. It all looked so bright and colorful. Life looked so full of possibilities. The balcony door slid open and on the other side stood Billy.

“Do you mind if I join you?” His voice was small and unsure. The words _precarious balance_ played on a loop in his mind. Steve nodded and made room for him. Billy sat down, tucking his knees under his chin and wrapping his arms around his legs.

“Shit looks so peaceful, doesn’t it?” Steve asked mindlessly after they’d allowed a few beats of silence to rest between them. Billy nodded. Steve continued.

“It really makes you feel like you can do anything, ya know? _Be_ anything. It’s crazy. Times like this makes me feel so alive, yet incredibly aware of my own mortality.”

Billy nodded again, trying to follow Steve’s thought process. He knew that Steve was still drunk, so whatever he said was bound to be some degree of gibberish and nonsense, but he could tell that Steve was trying to get something off his chest. Steve continued anyway, looking out at the city, not at all put off by Billy’s lack of a verbal response.

“I’m always so aware of so much at night, ya know? Like, I dunno. Like it’s the perfect time for heightened self-awareness, and your brain refuses to turn itself off and shut the fuck up, no matter how much you want it to. You become so aware of every sensation and you remember every decision you’ve ever made, and it all rushes through you. And then it hits you how much control you have over your own life, yet how little control you have in the grand scheme of things. And you become so hyper-aware of all your talents and all your shortcomings, and aware of all the people cheering you on and all the people waiting for you to fail.”

Billy paid close attention to Steve’s words and tried to read between the lines.

“Are you afraid you’re gonna fail, Steve?” He asked.

After a few moments of silence, Steve turned to look at him and nodded slowly.

“It’s not like anyone really thinks I’ve got the brains or the talent to do anything successful on my own. People tell me all the time how I’m just coasting by on my parents’ money, and when they finally stop funding me everyone will see how bullshit I am.”

Steve took a swig from his bottle of water and aggressively slammed it back down on the balcony floor.

“Bullshit,” he repeated. “Bullshit, bullshit, bullshit, bullshit. I’m bullshit. I’m complete fucking bullshit.”

Billy scooted closer to Steve and cut him off before he could launch into another self-deprecating spiel.

“You’re not bullshit, Steve. So your parents help you out. So what? You’re lucky enough that your parents have the financial means to do so. Every parent wants to help their kid out.”

Well, _almost_ every parent. Neil wasn’t like most other parents who actually cared about their kids.

“All the people who talk shit about your parents helping you out are just jealous cos their parents can’t afford to help them out. They know that if their parents offered them all of the resources and opportunities that your parents have offered you, they’d take it in a fuckin’ heartbeat. And they wouldn’t feel sorry for it, either.”

Billy gave Steve’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

“Besides,” Billy continued “your parents are a shit ton better than my piece of shit dad.”

Steve moved his body around so that he was facing Billy.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” He asked Billy, sounding genuinely concerned. “We don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“He beats the shit out of me. Well, he used to, anyway. Before I moved out,” Billy confessed without preamble. He let the words sit in the air between them, fermenting as Steve struggled to find a way to respond.

“I— _what the fuck?_ Are you ok? Do you want me to call the cops?”

“No. No cops. Max still lives with him and I don’t want her life to be miserable.”

“ _Shit_ , Billy. I’m so sorry. You didn’t deserve that. You know that, right? No matter what bullshit he said to justify what he did. _You didn’t deserve that._ ”

“Yeah, I get that.” Billy specifically left out the _now_ that hung on the tip of his tongue. For a long time, he had believed Neil when Neil told him that he deserved the punishment he was getting. That if he just stopped being embarrassing, just stopped acting like a faggot, just stopped being everything that Neil abhorred, he wouldn’t get the shit beaten out of him.

So he had tried, time and time again, to be the perfect son. To be the son that Neil would be proud of. The son that Neil wouldn’t hit. But Billy had quickly found out that Neil’s stipulations had been nothing but bullshit, and there was nothing he could ever truly do to prevent himself from getting the shit beaten out of him.

So he had stopped trying, and Neil used that as proof that Billy had always been an ungrateful, good-for-nothing, pathetic excuse for a son.

Steve’s arms wrapped around Billy’s neck as he hugged the other boy. Billy, for the second time that night, froze.

“Your dad’s a piece of shit. Never forget that. I’m so glad you’re away from him. Everyone here is happy to have you. Jonathan says all the time that he can’t believe we didn’t find you sooner.”

Steve’s arms gripped Billy tighter, and Billy let him.

This was safe. _He_ was safe.


	15. Fightin' for my trust and you won't back down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lmao

Thanksgiving break arrived, and with it so did the crushing remembrance that he’d be forced to spend his break back at Neil’s place with Neil, Susan, and Max. Susan said she’d wanted the whole family to be with each other for Thanksgiving this year even though Billy had moved out, and it took everything in Billy to not reply with the words that hung on the tip of his tongue: _“Since when were we a family?”_

He had agreed, only because he’d known that he hadn’t really had a choice. He’d never cared for Thanksgiving in the past—and it wasn’t like they’d ever actually celebrated the day as a family—so he knew that this year wasn’t going to be much different. Plus, he had to admit that it’d be good to see Max again, even though it hadn’t been very long since he’d last seen her.

The whole day was spent with Susan cooking in the kitchen and periodically asking for Max’s and Billy’s help. This was something Billy hadn’t been expecting: Susan actually making an effort for them to have some semblance of a holiday spent together. Typically, she didn’t bother because she figured that Neil’s temper would become too much and ruin whatever was planned.

Billy assumed that she must have thought that with him now moved out, Neil would be less volatile and would have less reasons to lash out during a family Thanksgiving dinner. He didn’t have the heart to tell her how wrong she was to think that Neil wouldn’t look for any excuse to act like a dick.

When she’d finished cooking, she spread the food out on the table, looking quite pleased with herself, and made everyone say grace before they ate. Billy coughed to cover up the laugh that threatened to come out. Who the fuck kidnapped his step-mother and _where_ was the real Susan?

The dinner, for the most part, had gone better than Billy had been expecting. Neil hadn’t backhanded Billy yet, so that was as good as any family event was destined to be. But, the night was still young.

Everything was going as good as could be expected when Susan, out of the blue, decided to ask Billy about his new living arrangements and how he was finding it. Billy briefly paused, unsure of how to answer her question. What was he supposed to say? That he was in love with his roommate who he had made out with at a frat party? That he knew his roommate and his friends were keeping something from him that he couldn’t quite understand, but it felt big and important?

“It’s been good, Susan,” he settled on, because that felt like the safest option. He’d have preferred to leave everything at that, but he knew that Susan wasn’t going to leave this topic alone until she felt satisfied; and Neil would guarantee that Billy answered all of her questions. “Steve’s introduced me to his friends. They’re nice.”

“Oh, that’s so nice, Billy,” Susan cooed, clapping her hands together approvingly. Billy chanced a glance at Max who rolled her eyes. At least Max could openly express how he was inwardly feeling. “Have you guys been on any adventures or anything? Did Max tell you that she’s found a friend group of her own? They go on little adventures all the time!”

Susan was excited to see them both making friends, and Billy couldn’t say he faulted her for that. He and Max both had a history of not engaging with other kids their own age. So he knew that for Susan, this was a goldmine.

“Yeah, Susan. She’s told me. And yeah, we all hang out sometimes.” _Don’t mention parties. Don’t mention drinking. Don’t give Neil an excuse to snap._ “Nothing really exciting, though.”

“Oh? You mean you guys don’t throw any parties or anything?” Susan sounded genuinely confused, not like she was trying to bait Billy into spilling secretive truths. “I’m sure it’s not _all_ work.”

“I mean, we have little get-togethers, but I wouldn’t really call those parties, ya know?” He tried to steer the conversation away from whatever the fuck it was Susan was trying to steer it toward.

She didn’t look like she believed him.

In fact, she seemed like she was going to ask him more questions that were, quite frankly, _none of her fucking business_ when Max jumped into the conversation after Billy gave her a look that said “ _Please get your mom to shut the fuck up._ ”

“Jane said that she and her brothers are going bowling later, and she wants to know if me and Billy can come,” Max said out of the blue. It’d been something she’d been planning to mention at the end of dinner, but figured now was as good a time as any to announce it. “Her mom and dad are going to see a movie and Jane’s older brother offered to take them all bowling.”

There was a pause at the table, a moment in which both Susan and Neil shared a look, debating what to say. Susan had intended for this to be an entire day spent with family. She’d been elated at the prospect of Billy being home again and them all pretending to be one big happy family. Billy had been on his best behavior so as to prevent any unnecessary drama from occurring, but in the back of his mind he knew that it was only a matter of time before Neil found a reason to complain.

“Why are you in such a rush to get outta here?” Neil asked only Billy, as if Billy were the one to bring it up in the first place. “Susan prepared a nice family meal and she wanted us to have Thanksgiving as a family. The least you could do is not act like such an ungrateful son of a bitch by trying to get out of it like how you moved outta this house.”

Under the dining room table, Billy’s hands balled into fists in his lap. In his head, he slowly counted to ten, then relaxed his fingers.

“I’m not trying to get out of it, sir,” he forced out, trying to keep his tone neutral. “Max is the one who suggested it.”

“So you’re trying to blame it on your teenage sister now? You can’t even take responsibility like a man for your own damn self?” Neil’s voice increased in volume and, without even realizing it, Billy shrank back in his seat with every rising octave.

For the second time, Max came to Billy’s aid.

“Neil, Jane asked me to bring Billy along. She said that Will really liked meeting him when we played Mario Kart at his apartment. She’d be really upset if he didn’t tag along.”

Neil didn’t look like he believed her, so she tacked on a “ _Please_ ” for added effect. He still didn’t look convinced, but he agreed nonetheless. Max let out a sigh of relief, but Billy’s eyes were fixed on his plate in front of him.

…

On the drive over to the bowling alley, the car was silent. Max watched Billy as he drove and kept his eyes on the road. She slowly reached her hand across the armrest and snaked her hand up to squeeze his shoulder. Billy flinched, the touch unexpected but not unwelcome.

“Sorry he’s such a dick to you,” she tried to comfort him. “I don’t get why he’s so fucking awful like that.”

“He hates fags, Max.” There was no hesitation or faltering in Billy’s tone. He never took his eyes off the road. “That and he thinks I’m the worst thing that’s ever happened to him. What isn’t there to get?” Billy didn’t need to look at Max’s face to know she was frowning.

“You don’t deserve the shit he gives you,” she told him.

“So I’ve heard,” he replied, and left it at that.

When they finally pulled into the parking lot of the bowling alley, Billy slammed the front door of his car harder than he’d been meaning to. All of the pent up anger that he hadn’t been able to express back at Neil’s needed to be released. Max looked at him with understanding.

They made their way into the building, looking for Jonathan, Jane, and Will when Billy’s vision went black.

“Guess who?” A voice called from behind him with the owner’s hands cupped around Billy’s eyes. A smile spread across Billy’s face at the sound.

“Am I dreaming or is that you, Harrington?”

Billy turned around to Steve’s arms engulfing him in a hug.

“I didn’t know you’d be here. Max said it was only supposed to be Jonathan and Jane and Will.”

“Yeah,” Steve acknowledged, “but Jonathan invited us all along.”

Steve moved Billy towards the tables they’d reserved for their game. Sitting at the two tables were Billy’s usual group of friends, as well as Max’s. Max sat near Lucas, nervously intertwining her fingers with the boy while Mike grabbed a bowling ball.

“Don’t choke, Mike!” Nancy cheered.

“That’s a shitty way to cheer someone on, Nancy,” Mike told her.

“Roll the damn ball, Michael.”

“Roll the damn ball, Michael,” Mike mocked. He did, however, roll the damn ball, and missed almost every single pin. “That was your fault, Nancy! You jinxed me!”

“It’s not my fault you’re a shitty bowler!” Nancy disagreed.

Their back and forth bickering went on for the entire game.

…

Steve walked away from the group at some point during Barb’s turn and, after fifteen minutes of not hearing or seeing anything of him, Billy followed after him to figure out just what the fuck was going on. His search took him almost all around the entire building, and he’d begun to panic that Steve had managed to get kidnapped while the rest of them had been none the wiser.

After asking a few of the employees if they’d seen an abnormally tall guy with an unusual amount of hair, they pointed Billy to one of the storage closets they’d last seen someone matching Steve’s description wandering toward with some random girl. Billy’s panic dissipated only a little. Steve might’ve still been in the building, but that didn’t necessarily mean he was safe.

Billy searched in the direction of the aforementioned storage closet, only to be stopped in his tracks by the sight of a familiar head of unusual hair. Tucked away from the rest of the patrons of the bowling alley in a corner near a storage closet stood Steve making out with the same random girl that the employees claimed to have seen him with.

Steve hadn’t registered Billy’s presence, nor had the girl he was making out with. They both continued on like nothing could rouse them from their moment. Billy shoved his hands in his pockets, quickly fishing for his keys, and made a beeline for the front door, heading straight for his car.

He contemplated going right back to Neil’s house, but he knew there’d be hell to pay if he went back without Max, even if one of Max’s friends brought her home later on. So he sat in his car, alone, allowing every feeling that’d been trapped inside of him since his dinner with Neil and Susan to be liberated.

He punched his steering wheel, punched his passenger seat, and nearly punched himself. He felt stupid for coming home. He felt resentment both at Neil and at himself for still allowing Neil to make him feel so fucking pathetic and insignificant. And, worst of all, he felt profound rage at himself for letting his guard down and being stupid enough to believe that anything good could ever happen to him.

If Neil had been there, he’d have laughed. Laughed at Billy and his stupid hopes, his stupid feelings for a stupid boy (a straight boy none the fuckin’ less), and laughed at Billy’s overall stupidity. _Of course_ Steve merely saw Billy as an experiment. The night they’d talked on the balcony, Billy should’ve understood that Steve was drunk and confused and had only kissed him at the party because of that.

Billy thought about screaming.

He _wanted_ to scream.

So, he _did_.


	16. Avoiding this disaster seemed impossible

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s been months but I got muse and I promised myself I’d finish this fic, for better or for worse.

Billy and Steve both arrived back to their apartment, separately, that Sunday after Thanksgiving. Billy was still full of anger and betrayal, meanwhile Steve couldn’t understand what was going on with his roommate. He’d texted Billy repeatedly only to be left on read (Billy had turned his read receipts on for the sole purpose of having Steve know when his texts were being ignored), and all of his calls to Billy had instantly gone to voicemail.

When they arrived back at their place, Steve had tried (and failed) to get Billy to talk to him. Billy had become a brick wall: impenetrable, unmovable, and unfeeling. He’d done his usual Sunday activities without so much as a glance in Steve’s direction, and the whole thing was making Steve feel like a ghost in his own home. What Steve didn’t know was that it was taking everything in Billy to not turn into a puddle of useless emotional goop and cry about shit like _Why don’t you want me?_ and _I thought you liked me_ and _Why did you kiss me if you know you don’t feel anything for me?_

Billy, despite all of Neil’s insults growing up, was _not_ an emotional teenage girl. He wasn’t a sissy or a crybaby or someone who turned bitch when they didn’t get their way. No, he took his lot in life like a man no matter what. But he’d be lying to himself if he said he didn’t want to scream in Steve’s face and ask Steve why he’d decided to kiss him if he knew he had no real feelings for Billy. Why had he decided to fuck with Billy’s head that way?

“So, are you just never going to talk to me again?” Steve asked, cutting into Billy’s thoughts. Billy had been wiping down the exact same spot on the kitchen countertop for the past two minutes. He pointedly ignored Steve and wiped down the rest of the countertop.

“What did I do wrong, dude?” Steve tried again, getting up from the couch to, once again, try to get a verbal response out of Billy. “Whatever it is, I’m sorry, okay? You know I didn’t mean it.”

Billy’s grip on the towel he was using to wipe the kitchen countertop tightened. How fucking dare Steve even say something like that? The anger that flowed through Billy was white-hot. He forced himself to not look in Steve’s direction, not trusting himself to be able to keep up his front of being a barely-held-together person if he so much as acknowledged Steve’s presence. Steve, however, refused to let the topic drop. He was an annoying fuck, but nobody could say that he wasn’t a persistent annoying fuck.

He stood directly in Billy’s line of sight—but if he’d known how much Billy was suppressing the urge to punch him right in the face, he probably wouldn’t have made such a grave mistake. Steve, still utterly unaware of the dangerous territory he was in, put both his hands on Billy’s shoulders and squeezed. His eyes looked equal parts worried and hopeful.

“Dude, please talk to me. I’m an asshole, I know. But I can’t exactly apologize if I don’t know what asshole thing I did this time.”

And that was when Billy’s walls—held together merely by two second graders in a trench coat—came tumbling down, and the reservoir of anger he’d been trying to keep at bay came rushing out, leaving nothing but destruction in its wake.

“Do you really want to know what you did, Steve?” Billy asked rhetorically, his tone biting and the towel he was using to wipe down the countertop now abandoned. “Fine, I’ll tell you. No holds barred, right?”

Billy didn’t even wait for Steve to respond before he started speaking again.

“You’re a fucking _user_. You're confused, pathetic, and, quite honestly, the biggest fucking waste of time I’ve ever met. You made me think that you actually had feelings for me when you kissed me, but then you spend Thanksgiving with your tongue down some random bitch’s throat. How the _fuck_ did you think that would make me feel?”

“Billy—”

“Are you fucking stupid?” Billy interrupted, not at all hearing Steve. “Wait, don’t answer that. We both already know the answer. But do you want to know what the craziest thing is, Steve? I don’t know if you’re only _pretending_ to be fucking stupid on purpose, or if you’re actually just _that_ fucking stupid.”

Whatever common sense response Steve might’ve had dissolved instantly upon being called stupid. Every fear, every doubt, and every taunting voice ran through his mind at breakneck speed. He was always stupid. He was always the idiot. He was always the guy who should’ve been glad he was born to rich parents because he’d be shit out of luck otherwise. His dad was always telling him how he needed to apply himself more or he’d be cut off. Steve had always felt stupid, but now Billy—of all people—was responsible for reminding him of those feelings.

Billy, who Steve had been ecstatic to have as a roommate.

Billy, who Steve had introduced to his friends like an overexcited child showing off his new favorite thing to his parents.

Billy, who Steve’s friends had easily embraced as one of the gang.

Billy, who Steve felt _so much_ for. So much that he couldn’t explain or fully comprehend. The very same Billy who hadn’t hesitated to call Steve stupid.

Steve leveled a glare at Billy. It was filled with all of the hurt, confusion, and indignation he felt.

“Having my tongue down some random bitch’s throat felt pretty fucking amazing, actually.”

Steve let the words hang in the air between them. Billy looked as hurt as Steve felt, but they’d both said too much to change what happened.

“Go fuck yourself, Steve,” Billy spat, shoving past Steve and going to his room. He wanted to scream and punch something again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise they’ll get together soon and all this nonsense will have been worth it. Maybe. Who knows.


End file.
